A Fresh Start
by futureauthor13
Summary: He needed a fresh start, a new thrill in his life. Only problem was he had no idea where to find it, or a job for that matter. That is, until he met a certain lollipop man. Benson and Pops drabble. Complete!
1. A Fresh Start

The dark green walls and floor were a familiar sight to him, this was the third time he had been here this week. He sat down one one of the worn, ugly leather stools.

"Just give me my usual."

"Sure thing," the waiter said in his thick brooklyn accent. The waiter had known this certain customer for quite some time. When he first saw him, he thought maybe he was hallucinating. He was, afterall, a talking gumball machine.

His name was Benson. He had a medium sized glass head filled with bright pink gumballs that sometimes changed color depending on his mood, and had a red, metal cylinder for a body. He also had a crank and a gumball door like a normal gumball machine, which always made the waiter curious, but not curious enough to ask to turn it and see what happened.

He talked like a normal person, ate, drank, breathed, and acted like every other person the waiter had seen in his life, and yet it still took him weeks to get used to talking with a living gumball machine. But he did get used to it, and now he was just another normal customer.

"Here ya go, Ben," he said, handing the machine his drink in a small and slighty dirty shot glass.

"Thanks," Benson said with little enthusiasm as he handed the man two dollar bills. The gumball machine drank his drink in less than a minute, and then set it upside down on the countertop. He didn't have to say anything to let the waiter know he wanted another one. The gumball machine would probably have two or three more before he decided to go back home.

'Why does my life suck?' Benson asked himself. His life had always been a little below average, but lately it just seemed like it was hitting rock bottom.

Last year had been the best year in a while. Benson had been in a band, he was the drummer, and also filled in for guitar whenever the normal guitarist wasn't there or when the song called for it. They played small gigs with little pay, but at least it was enjoyable.

But after a few months, the band broke up and went their seperate ways. Benson was planning on heading out of town to see if he could get into another band, and he was planning on going with his girlfriend. Unfortunately for him, life always seemed to have a way of screwing him over.

Veronica was her name. She had been spoiled her whole life, and was usually rude to Benson. But she was another gumball machine, and she had her nice moments, so Benson ended up falling for her. He wrote songs for her, and always tried to make her smile. But in the end, it wasn't enough for the female gumball machine.

'It was probably a good thing she left me anyway,' he thought. Deep down, he never really thought it would work out between the two of them, but it was nice to hope.

After Veronica left, Benson pawned his guitar (but he kept his drums, since he still enjoyed playing them once in a while) and tried looking for a real job. That was five months ago. Now his apartment was one late rent payment away from getting taken away from him, and he still had no job. There was no way he would go back to his parents' house, so he was quickly running out of options.

'I need a fresh start. Only problem is I don't know where to get one.'

"One Aquarita please," a high voice next to him said. Benson glanced over and saw a man. He was thin, but had a big head, giving him the apperance of a lollipop. He was also wearing a top hat. Definitely an interesting looking person.

"Thank you, my good man," said the man, obviously British. He took out his wallet, and placed two grape lollipops on the countertop. "No change neccessary, that's all for you."

"Wow, thanks," the waiter said sarcastically, "Now seriously, pay up."

The lollipop man tilted his head, looked confused. "I've got it," said Benson, taking out his wallet and handing the waiter the money.

"Thank you, young man," said the man with a friendly smile and a tip of the hat.

"You're not from around here, are you?" Benson said.

"You are correct, my good man," he replied, "but I do hope to make a happy life here. My father just passed his park onto me. I'll miss living in my old home, but it's quite exciting getting a new one."

"That's nice," said Benson, turning away from the stranger. The lollipop man seemed nice, if not a little naive, but Benson really didn't want to talk to anyone right now.

"So, what's your name?"

"Look, you seem like a nice guy," said Benson, trying not to sound too rude, "but I really just want to sit here quietly, okay?"

The lollipop man seemed a little dissapointed. "Oh, alright," he said, before taking a sip of his drink. Two minutes of silence passed before he spoke again. "Why are you so sad?"

The question seemed so innocent, like a child was asking it. Benson didn't know whether it was the man's friendly personality, or the fact that he had already drunk too much to care about privacy, but something made him start to share his story with the lollipop man.

"Well, where do I begin?" said Benson, "I guess my biggest problem right now is that I'm out of a job. My apartment's going to get repo'd, and no one will hire a 'freaky talking gumball machine'."

"Why not?" the man asked, "I would." He smiled. "In fact, I shall!"

"Huh?" Benson asked. He had only known this guy for five minutes and he was offering him a job?

"I still need some employees to run my father's park, and you seem perfect for the manager job!"

"But I don't have any experience working as a manager," said Benson. He barely had any job experience at all, let alone manager experience.

"Oh, no experience needed," the man said with a friendly smile, "Just tell me your name and you've got the job."

"It's Benson," Benson replied.

"Benson," the man repeated. He liked that name. It seemed to suit the gumball machine. "Alright Benson, would you like the job?"

"Well, sure," said Benson. It was surprising. Five minutes ago he was as low as you could get, and now he was practically smiling. The man told Benson the address of the park, and the two shook hands. "Thank you Sir."

"Oh please, call me Pops," said the lollipop man.

"Well alright, Pops," said Benson, "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Oh good show!" Pops said happily, "jolly good show." He thanked Benson, and then left the bar. As he left, Benson couldn't help but chuckle a little.

Such a strange man, but maybe this would be the fresh start he was looking for. He had never worked at a park before, or as a manager. But with this guy as his boss, it was sure to be interesting.

**So, love it? Hate it? Review it maybe?**

**Also, if Pops seems a little OOC, it's because this was before Mordecai and Rigby went to '82 and hit him with the golf cart. So he's not quite as Pops-like as we're used to, but he's still naive. **

**So, hope you liked this, and I will probably make more Pops/Benson short stories to add on to this one in the future if this one goes well, so stay tuned!**


	2. Benson in Wonderland

**Quick shoutout to Roxinursocks for being my first reviewer. Thanks for being so awesome :) So this next chapter is an idea I've had for a long time, and I'm just now writing it down. It's a little more surreal than the last chapter and a lot longer, but it still involves Benson and Pops. Enjoy!**

The gumball machine cursed under his breath as he shuffled the papers on his desk. Today had been another 'perfect' day for him. Mr. Maellard had made a surprise visit to see how the park was running. Of course that was the day everything went wrong.

'_I still can't believe things have gotten **worse **since my last visit,' the elder boss had said, 'I thought maybe you could handle things here, Beanteen, but I can see you've got a lot of work left to do. You better get your act together, or you're outta here! Got it Beanteen?'_

_'Yes Sir,' Benson replied, 'Loud and clear.'_

After getting chewed out by his own boss, Benson went straight to the two employees the most responsible for everything that had happened that day. Benson wasn't sure how long he yelled at the bird and raccoon duo, but by the end his throat was practically hoarse.

It was now 7:15 PM, the sun was still up but it would start to set in a half an hour or so. The manager still had several property destruction and lawsuit forms to fill out. It was going to be another long night. What made it even longer was that he could hear the two slackers in the other room playing video games. He felt like walking in there and smashing the game against the wall just to even the score. But he didn't, what would it solve? It would just make him look like the cliche mean old boss out to ruin everyone's fun.

No, the best thing to do was to just ignore it. As Benson tried to get his attention back on his work, he noticed a golden yellow lollipop sitting on his desk. Pops must've put it there, he thought, thinking back to earlier that day.

'_Benson please, perhaps you should go on a holiday. Everyone needs time to relax and smell the butterscotch ripple.'_

_'I know Pops, but I just don't have time.' _

"You will have time if you get back to work," Benson told himself. As he put himself into his work, he couldn't help but feel like someone was watching him. He glanced up and saw the familiar sight of a fluffy, black and brown tail.

"Rigby?" The tail disappeared, so Benson just shrugged it off and went back to work. But as he was filling out the mundane paperwork, he kept hearing the sound of footsteps, running back and forth. And not only that, but he kept seeing that familiar tail. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. "Okay Rigby, that's it. If you don't leave me alone, you're fired!"

But the tail didn't disappear, it just swished back in forth. Benson, his gumballs turning red, walked towards the doorway, but as soon as he did, Rigby ran outside without saying a word. "Rigby!" Benson shouted, wanting to know why the little rat felt it neccessary to bug him after the crappy day he had had.

When he didn't get a response, Benson ran after the raccoon, following him outside and towards the dense woods. "Rigby, get back here!" As Benson ran, it just seemed like Rigby kept getting faster until the gumball machine couldn't even see him anymore.

Benson looked around, but didn't see any clues on where his employee was hiding. "Great," he said, "Now I'm seeing things." As the gumball machine walked back towards the house, he felt the ground disappear from under his metal feet and the power of gravity pushing down into a deep dark hole.

He screamed as loud as he could, both with surprise and fear. Where had this hole come from, and more importantly, what was waiting for him at the bottom. After a while, Benson stopped screaming. How deep was this hole? After what seemed like forever, he saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

He finally hit something solid, but not hard. He had landed on a, bouncy castle? "What the...?" Benson said as he picked himself up. He looked around and saw that, he was right back home. This didn't make any sense.

"Hey, you look lost," a raspy voice said. Benson turned his head and saw a familiar face. Skips? No, this wasn't Skips. Skips was a yeti, this guy, he didn't really know what to call him. It had Skips' voice, face and fur color, but it had multiple body segments and legs, almost like a caterpillar, and he was sitting on an old tree stump reading a newspaper. The gumball machine only had on question on his mind:

What the H was going on?

"I'm not really lost," said Benson as he climbed down from the bouncy castle, "Just confused. But, maybe I'm lost."

"Well, are you looking for the Boss?" the Skips Caterpillar asked.

"Who's that?" Benson asked, "Can he explain what's going on here?"

"Yeah," replied the Skips-pillar as he turned the page, "but I warn ya, he's not really a people person."

"If he can help me at all, then I don't care," said Benson, "Could you please tell me where he is?"

"Just keep heading north," the yeti-pillar said. Benson thanked him, and then started walking north.

As he walked through the woods, he kept seeing things that were strange, and yet familiar. A giant high heal shoe with the heal broken off, a lifesize tape with some lame eighty's summer song, empty packages of hotdogs with half eaten hotdogs around him, giant doors, and about half a million other weird things. This is crazy, he thought. "Just keep walking, Benson," the machine told himself, "Just keep walking."

After walking for half an hour, Benson was about to give up when he finally heard another person's voice. Correction, _two _people's voices. "Ohhhhhh!" He'd recognize that holler anywhere. Almost immediantly, he ran towards it until he found the source.

Sitting in the middle of a clearing, on a long couch with a coffee table, were Mordecai and Rigby. But like Skips, they looked the same and yet different. They were both wearing top hats and suits, and yet they were slouching and playing video games while eating pizza.

"Oh, hey dude," the Mordecai look alike said, glancing up at the gumball machine, before pressing a button and winning the game. "Ohhhh!" He hollered happily.

"Hey, I was distracted by the new guy," said Rigby, pouting about losing the game.

"What are you guys doing?" Benson asked.

"Duh, we're playing video games," said Rigby, "I thought you were supposed to be smart."

Benson felt his gumballs start to turn red with anger at that comment, but he managed to calm himself down. "Coffee?" Mordecai offered, holding up a mug.

"No thanks," said Benson, "Shouldn't you guys be doing something a little more constructive? Won't The Boss get mad if he sees you not working?"

"Yeah, probably," replied Rigby, yet not getting up or pausing his game.

"Well, aren't you going to get back to work?"

"We're on our break." Benson facepalmed. It was just like talking to his Mordecai and Rigby, like talking to a couple of brick walls.

"Dude, we know he'll get mad," said Mordecai, "But he usually does anyway, besides, we need to have fun every once and a while. Sit down and play video games with us, dude."

"I don't have time," replied Benson, "I just need to find the Boss, and get out of here." He turned to head back towards the path, but stopped when Rigby spoke up again.

"You could get there a lot quicker if we helped you," said Rigby.

"I don't need help," replied Benson.

"C'mon dude," said Mordecai, "Do you really want to spend another two hours traveling through the woods?"

The bluejay had a point. Benson sighed. "Fine," he agreed.

"Hmph hmph, good choice," said Mordecai, "Follow us." The two friends got off the couch and started walking towards an empty space. Benson followed them, and then stood right in front of them.

"Okay, so what now?" The gumball machine asked.

"This," said Rigby. He then pulled a red keyboard out of thin air and began playing. "Send him to the boss, send him to the boss, weird gumball machine dude, send him to the boss!"

For a split second, Benson felt himself floating in the air, and then felt himself crash to the grassy ground. "Ow," he said, picking himself up. Realizing he was no longer in the forest, he looked up, and saw what he could assume was the Boss's house. It looked just like the house at the park, but it was bigger and had a few towers thrown in.

"Well well, what do we have here?" Benson turned around, and gave a small gasped. Standing there, looking bigger and more threatening than usual, was Mr. Maellard himself. He was wearing a black suit, red cape, and a small silver crown fit for a king. Behind him was about a dozen soldiers, ready to attack and defend at command. Maellard did not look happy.

"Um, I, uh," said Benson.

"What is your name?" Maellard asked.

"B-Benson," Benson answered.

"Well Bennon," the boss said, getting his name wrong as usual, "what can you do?"

Benson was a little taken back by the question. "Well, uh, I can pay the bills, repair damages to property, play the drum..."

"Can you plan an attack on a kingdom?" Maellard interrupted, "Or can you defend a kingdom? Can you turn a profit from nothing?"

"Um, well..."

"Can you disapline others, and make sure they don't make anymore mistakes? Can you make sure _you _don't make any mistakes? I think not since you've already made several."

"What? But I..." Benson tried to explain that he had only been in this place for less than an hour and, as far as he knew, hadn't made any mistakes.

"Can you do anything right?"

"I...I..." Benson didn't answer the question. Could he do anything right?

"I thought not," said Maellard, who seemed to be getting bigger and more threatening by the second, "You're useless, unfit to take care of even the smallest piece of land. What to do with a useless person like you?" The boss thought for a moment. "Maybe I should look you in a room in one of my towers. Or maybe I should fire you."

"But, but I don't work for you," commented Benson.

"I meant out of a cannon." Benson's pink gumballs paled.

"Now now, my good gentlemen," said a voice that seemed to be everywhere, and yet Benson didn't know where it was coming from, "I think that's quite enough."

Driving out from behind a couple clouds in the sky, Benson saw a shiny black European flying car. In all honesty, seeing this wasn't too shocking, at least compared to everything else he had seen today. But then he got another surprise.

Two robotic arms came out from the front of the car, and picked Benson off the ground and into the sky. Benson tensed up after seeing the dizzying heights, and held onto the robotic arms as tight as he could. He almost wished he was back with Maellard, almost.

As the car continued flying, Benson still held on tightly, but was a little more relaxed. As the car slowly started to land, Benson could see a whole forest of lollipops as tall as trees. 'Great,' he thought to himself, 'First I'm in Wonderland, now I'm Candy Land.'

The mechanical arms carefully set the gumball machine down, and then parked itself. "Hello?" Benson asked, "Is anyone here?" He then heard a high pitched giggle. "Hello?"

"Oh yes, come in, come in!" said a voice from inside the lollipop forest. Doing as he was told, Benson began walking through the lollipops. Another familiar face appeared as soon as he entered the forest.

He looked exactly like Pops, only he was wearing a white outfit and top hat. He was smiling to himself as he watered the smaller lollipops and listened to the music on his old fashioned wooden radio. "Here you are my friends," he said to the lollipops as he giggled and emptied out the rest of the water.

The Pops lookalike then set the pail down and turned to face Benson. "Now, would you like some tea, or perhaps some spare change." He then took out a white wallet. "I believe I have a couple hundreds in here somewhere."

"I don't need any money," Benson interrupted.

"Well alright," Pops said, putting his wallet away, "So, are you enjoying your holiday here?"

"Well, not really," said Benson, "I'm really just trying to get back home."

"Some people may enjoying staying in a place as wonderous and unusual as this," Pops commented.

"Some people would just be confused by it," retorted Benson.

"Some people may already be used to it." Benson thought for a moment. Most of the stuff he had seen here was surprising to him at first, but he easily got used to it. After all, he was used to crazy things happening to him. From monsters, to strange new lands, to everything in between.

"I guess you're right," said Benson. Pops smiled at him, and poured himself another cup of tea. Just like the Pops in his world, he always seemed to have a smile on his face. Benson wasn't really sure how this Pops could be so happy with such a ruthless Boss living just a few miles away from him.

_'You're useless, unfit to take care of even the smallest piece of land.' _The Boss's words still rang in his glass head, and they still hurt.

"Papa isn't always the easiest person to be with," said Pops, taking a sip of his tea, "But he isn't the wisest either."

"Huh?" Benson said. Pops didn't answer right away. He finished drinking the tea, and then ate the glass, which surprised Benson until he realized the cup was just sugar and butterscotch.

"He was wrong about you, Benson," said Pops, "You're not useless. In fact, you're the most non useless person I've ever met. He was wrong, but you may be wrong about a few things."

Benson understood what the lollipop man was hinting at, and scowled. "I know what you're going to say," said Benson, "That I need to relax and smell the butterscotch ripple or whatever, that I need to have fun. Well, I do have fun, I just don't have the time to have fun. With Maellard yelling at me everytime something goes wrong, and everything else going wrong everyday, I just don't have time! Besides, everytime I do try to enjoy myself, things just go wrong, so what's the point?" Benson thought back to all the times he had tried to have fun. His band that broke up after a few months, when he tried to slack off just a little and a giant business woman almost destroyed the park, when he took everyone out for drinks and challenged Skips to arm wrestling and someone actually got killed!

"There's always time," said Pops, "You had time today."

"You could've played video games with us," said a voice. Benson turned and saw Mordecai and Rigby. "You're pretty good at playing them," said Rigby.

"Or you could've enjoyed that bouncy castle," added Mordecai, "Those are fun no matter how old you are."

"Even someone as old as you," said Rigby. Benson glared at the raccoon, but he of course didn't notice.

"And besides, none of that stuff that went wrong wasn't your fault," added Skips.

"Wait, so now you're a mind reader?" Benson asked.

"Don't change the subject," said Skips, "what I'm tryin' to say is, don't be so harsh on yourself."

"Live a little, Dude," commented Mordecai.

"If I didn't have so much work to do, maybe I could," retorted Benson.

"You can slack off a little and it won't like ruin your life or anything," added Rigby, "Just look at us, we're okay. Just let your hair loose and enjoy life man!"

"He doesn't have hair, dude," said Mordecai.

"Oh," said Rigby, thinking of a different expression, "Um, well then, uh, let your gumballs loose?" Mordecai laughed. "Shut up!" shouted the embarrased raccoon.

Even Benson had to laugh at that one. "Oh yes, that's what I was looking for!" said Pops happily, when he saw Benson smile.

Benson continued smiling. "Okay okay, I get it guys," the gumball machine said, "That I shouldn't worry about Maellard all the time, and relaxing a little won't destroy the park or anything like that. I've got it."

"Finally!" said Rigby, "I was wondering when you were finally going to get it."

Pops laughed and clapped happily. "Good show! Jolly good show!"

"Thanks," said Benson, smiling at the happy old man. But he still had one more problem: How was he going to get back home. Just then, as if it had answered his question, a tall lollipop started spinning. It looked like one of those discs that were supposed to put someone in a hypnotic trance. It spun faster and faster until it was practically a portal.

He felt his feet start to slide forward towards the portal. At first, he panicked, but then he thought, what was there to worry about? After everything else that had happened in his life, random portals were just another everyday occurance. So, he just the portal's pull pick him up and throw him into the swirling vortex. He just hoped this landing was as soft as the first one.

He fell to the wooden floor of his office with a thud. "Ow," he said, rubbing his head. He looked around, and realized that he was back in his office. The clock said 7:35 AM. Was it all a dream, or real? He wasn't a hundred percent sure about either one.

"Benson, my good man?" The gumball machine looked up and saw his concerned friend in the doorway, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah Pops, I'm fine," replied Benson, picking himself off the floor, "Guess I just fell out of my chair or something." He glanced at his desk, and saw the stack of paperwork.

'Great, I've still got these to take care of, and then I have to...' Benson's train of thought was interrupted by Pops.

"I was wondering, would you perhaps like to go out to breakfast this morning?" Pops asked.

Benson thought back to his adventure. He then glanced back at his desk full of paperwork. He had managed to finish one fourth of it last night. He still had a lot of work to go, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a break.

"Yeah, sure Pops," replied Benson, "Going out for breakfast sounds nice. In fact, tell the others to come to, and maybe we can stop by Main street on the way home, I think there's supposed to be a street fair going on today."

"Oh! What fun!" Pops said happily, "I'll go get the others, they'll be so happy!" As Pops left the room, Benson smiled and started stacking his papers and placing them in his desk. When he opened the drawer, the smell of butterscotch ripple hit his nose. It was... nice, very calming, it made him happy,

"I guess Pops was right," the gumball machine said as he closed the desk drawer. He then got up, and left the room, leaving the paperwork behind, at least for now.

**So there you have it! So, was it good? Sucky? Please review and tell me. Also, I already have chapter three planned out, I just need to write it down, but since I have Anime Iowa this weekend and then Band Camp all next week, it may take a while to type, but hopefully not too long. See you next time!**


	3. Work and Play

**Thank you everyone who has reviewed. Here's another chapter, sorry it took so long. Enjoy! **

The summer sun shone down onto the wide field of grass. Pieces of metal and tools were scattered throughout the grass, and a certain bluejay and raccoon were playing with a few random objects they had found while working.

"Hey!" shouted a voice, startling the two, "what did I tell you two about slacking off?"

"We're just taking a break, Benson," said Rigby, "we'll get back to work in like five minutes."

"No, you'll get back to work now!" the irate gumball machine shouted, "or you're fired!"

Mordecai and Rigby both sighed dramatically, got up, and started working again. "Why do we even need to put up a new playground? The old one works just fine!"

"Because Pops wanted to put up a new playground," answered Benson, "he owns the park, so he can do what he wants. Besides, this playground is falling apart."

This was true. The swings were rusty and too short for anyone to enjoy, the slide was made out of metal instead of plastic so no one could use it without getting burnt badly, and thanks to an incident with the merry-go-round, it was taped off and shut down months ago.

After he was certain the two slackers had went back to work, Benson started walking over to the house. He had to get the park ready, Pops had wanted a grand opening for the new playground.

"_Oh Benson, thank you so much! It'll be so nice to have a new playground for all to enjoy! Perhaps we could have a grand opening, with streamers and balloons! I still have balloons, oh! And cupcakes! Oh good show, jolly good show!"_

The lolliman was so excited and happy, Benson didn't have the heart to say no to him. So now here he was, hanging streamers on the lemon trees throughout the park, making sure the balloons were tied down and couldn't float away, and frosting cupcakes. It was hard work, but Benson didn't really mind it all that much when he was doing it for one of Pops' grand ideas rather than it being extra work for something Mordecai and Rigby screwed up.

Two and a half hours later, the park was decorated, the new playground was built (surprisingly without any huge problems), and a crowd of anxious kids were waiting outside the red tape.

Benson walked up to the tape with a pair of scissors, and gave a forced smile to the kids. "Okay, kids," he said as he cut the tape, "Have..." The mob of kids ran to the new playground, nearly trampling Benson as they did.

"...fun."

With the kids enjoying the new toys and snacking on cupcakes, Benson walked over to the nearest bench, and collapsed. "I'll just close my eyes, for five minutes..."

"Benson my good man!"

Benson forced back a groan, and opened his eyes. "Hey Pops," he said, hoping his voice didn't sound too annoyed.

"Isn't this wonderful?" Pops asked, "you ordered the perfect playground set, with the metal climbing cages and the teetering totter."

Benson glanced over at the playground. It was a big set, complete with seven swings, a jungle gym, two teeter totters, a slide (plastic), and finally a rock wall. It was a kids paradise.

"Thanks Pops," said Benson, "but you thought of the idea."

Pops was no longer looking at Benson. He was looking at the playground, smiling at it, his eyes filled with a certain happiness but also longing. "Pops?"

The lolliman snapped out of his daze. "Oh, my appologies Benson," replied Pops, "I was just watching the happy children. Tell me, what sort of games do they play here?"

Benson blinked. He knew Pops was a little naive, but how could he not know the names of simple playground games? "Well, there's tag, that's the most popular one. There's also pretend games, hopscotch, jump rope, red light green light, hide 'n' seek..."

"Oh! I know that game! That's where you're supposed to hide from it! Correct?"

"Yeah, that's right," answered Benson.

"Have you played any of these games?" Pops asked the gumball machine.

"Yeah, years ago," replied Benson. When he was younger, he and his mother would go to the park sometimes. The kids often gave him strange looks, but once they got used to seeing a talking gumball machine child, he was invited to play their little games. But even so, he always felt like the odd one, and felt morecomfortable at home where he could practice his drums or read a book.

"It was so long ago I barely remember it," said Benson. He looked over at Pops, "but I bet you played a lot of games, huh Pops."

"Actually, I didn't play any."

What? This was definitely a surprise to the gumball machine. "What do you mean, Pops?"

"Well, my father didn't like me out of the house," said Pops, his voice still happy but now had a little bit of sadness in it, "he said that I had more important things to do than play games. I had to learn to be a proper gentleman. Most of the time, I was in my room working on lessons or playing the piano. But it wasn't all bad, our house had plenty of rooms to play with. It was quite fun.

"I was let out of the house once a week when Papa gave me my weekly spearmint and cherry lolli, so I could buy a new piano book or a piece of cake. But even then I didn't play with the other children much. My father had passed a little of his reputation onto me I'm afraid."

"So, you never played hide 'n' seek, or tag, or anything like that?" Benson asked.

Pops shook his head. "But perhaps these children will invite me to join one of their games."

"Is that why you wanted to build this new playground," Benson asked, "so kids could play here?"

"Well, it is a playground," said Pops, "and a fun one at that!"

Benson couldn't help but smile at the lolliman. Pops had barely had a childhood, and yet he wasn't bitter about it. In fact, he was the complete opposite. He enjoyed life with the same attitude of a child, but he also wanted to make sure others enjoyed it too. He wanted to make sure these kids had the fun that he never had.

That's what the gumball machine really admired about Pops, his kindness and his ability to be happy no matter what the situation. Sometimes, at least for Benson, Pops was the thing that made working at the park tolerable.

"Hide 'n' seek!" they both heard a kid shout, "Winner gets the rest of the cupcakes!" All the kids, plus Mordecai and Rigby, began running to find a good place to hide.

"Oh, young man!" Pops shouted, getting the boy's attention, "May we seek and hide with you too?"

"I don't care," said the boy, before running again.

"Oh jolly good show!" Pops said happily.

'Looks like you're getting your wish,' Benson thought with a smile. He felt two soft hands grab his metal arm. "Come Benson, I know a great hiding spot!" the lolliman said before giggling.

Running along side his young-hearted friend, Benson no longer felt tired or exhausted. Like he had thought before, all this extra work was worth it, when he saw how happy it made the lolliman, and even himself, happy.

**Okay, I hope this was okay. Please review, and the next chapter should be up soon!**


	4. Wrestling

**I decided to make this one more about Pops, since the last three have been a little more focused on Benson**

**Note: If you haven't seen the episode "Really Real Wrestling", you may want to before you read this. **

Pops glanced at his alarm clock. It said 8:15. Normally, he would be up and ready to start another day that was sure to be wonderful. But today, he didn't feel like getting up.

He wasn't sick, or tired, but Pops felt that he deserved to stay in his room. Call it Self Punishment. That, and there was a certain gumball machine that Pops' knew would be downstairs by now who he was trying to avoid.

*Knock knock* "Pops?" Pops' heart skipped a beat. The very person he was trying to avoid was right outside his door.

"Oh! I...um..." Pops couldn't think of a good excuse for him to not let Benson in. The gold doorknob began to slowly turn.

"Pops?" Benson slowly opened the door. He didn't want to open it quickly in case Pops had just finished taking a shower (he unfortunately had to learn this from experience). But when he saw Pops sitting under the covers on his bed, he quickly opened the door.

"Oh, good morning Benson," said Pops, trying to seem happy.

"Hey Pops," said Benson, "I was just wondering if you were awake."

"Oh yes," said Pops, "I'm just... enjoying the sunlight." He gestured to his window, which had a perfect view of the rising sun.

"Oh," said Benson. The two friends sat in silence for a couple awkward moments. Benson couldn't help but notice that Pops kept looking over at him, as if he was expecting the gumball machine to do or say something. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," the lolliman replied. A few more moments passed.

'Perhaps, I should ask,' Pops thought, before clearing his throat. "Benson, my good man?"

"Yeah, Pops?" Benson replied.

"Are, are you still upset at me?"

Benson raised an eyebrow. "Pops, what are you talking about?"

"Last night, you were upset with me for sneaking out to go to the big fight," Pops reminded.

Benson remembered back to that night. Having a sick feeling in his stomach, he headed back to the park, and found an empty house. With Pops having a hurt back and being with Mordecai and Rigby, the gumball machine was worried that the lolliman wouldn't even make it home.

But luckily, at around midnight, the trio came home. Benson was happy to see that Pops was safe, but he was furious with the bluejay and raccoon duo, so much so that he fired them.

But then, Pops explained that he had been the one to sneak out, and Mordecai and Rigby had to go get him. Benson didn't believe a word of it, since he still suspected that the two slackers had something to do with it, but he couldn't just call Pops a liar. So, he reluctantly gave Mordecai and Rigby another chance, and then escorted Pops to his room for a good night sleep.

"Pops, I was upset with Mordecai and Rigby, not you," explained Benson.

"But I was the one who snuck off to the fight," Pops reminded, "Aren't you upset with me."

Even if his naive personality got a little tiring at times, Benson could never be made at the lolliman.

"I'm not mad at you, Pops," said Benson, "I guess I was just worried that you would get hurt. But I'm not mad at you for sneaking out."

"So, I am forgiven?" Pops asked, sounding like a child asking his parent for forgiveness.

"Pops, I..." The gumball machine sighed. "Yes Pops, I forgive you." 'Even thought I don't have anything to forgive,' Benson thought.

Pops smiled, his face instantly brighter. "Oh, thank you Benson!" He wrapped his arms around his friend's metal body in a hug, and Benson awkwardly hugged back.

"No problem Pops." After the hug, Pops' stomach growled, and he invited Benson to join him in the kitchen for some breakfast. Pops made himself a bowl of cereal, while Benson just stuck to coffee. After a few minutes, they heard the sound of two pairs of feet walking down the stairs.

"*Yawn* Morning Benson," said Mordecai casually, as he and Rigby walked into the kitchen. The bird saw Pops, and smiled. "Hey Huge Head."

Rigby smiled, thinking of the great match. "Man Pops, I still can't believe you took out those guys. It was epic, totally worth snea...Ow!"

Mordecai had punched the raccoon in the arm before he could say anymore.

"Hmm," Benson said, as he took another sip of coffee. 'I knew those two snuck out too,' the gumball machine thought. He would have to be sure to give them extra chores, Or...

"Hey Pops," said Benson, getting the lolliman's attention, "You said your back is back to normal right?"

"Oh yes, I feel great!" Pops replied with a smile, "Why?"

"Well, since I didn't see your performance last night, maybe you can show me," said Benson, "and I bet Mordecai and Rigby won't mind helping you out."

Mordecai and Rigby started to get worried. "Um, hey I just remembered," said Mordecai, "Rigby and I have to, uh..."

"Clean out the garage!" shouted Rigby, "guess we better get going."

"Wait," said Pops, "perhaps you can work on that this afternoon. Please?" He looked up at them with big, pleeding eyes.

Not being able to resist, Mordecai and Rigby reluctantly decided to help Pops reenact the fight. While Pops wasn't trying to hurt the two, he ended up hurting them anyway. Not badly, but the two would be sore the rest of the day. And Benson just simply sat back and smiled.

"How was that Benson?" Pops asked after finishing off Rigby and Mordecai (who were now laying on the floor).

"Awesome Pops," said Benson, making the lolliman smile.

**Not my best work, but I enjoyed writing it. **


	5. Fear of Flying

Despite the few clouds in the sky, the group of friends entered the airport with smiles on their faces. Well, almost everyone in the group.

The seven friends were taking a plane to New York City. Mr. Maellard had given them all tickets. Originally, he was only taking Pops, but his lollipop son had insisted his friends come along. "Besides, now I can show Bean-teen what a real park is supposed to look like," Mr. Maellard had said, referring to Central Park. The group was going to stay there for two weeks, which was time off that everyone needed.

"Looks like our flight will be taking off in an hour," said Skips, reading off the giant billboard with the list of times.

"Sweet, enough time to grab some grub," said Rigby, "C'mon Mordecai."

"Right behind you, dude!" said Mordecai as the two friends ran off towards the food court.

"Don't cause any trouble!" Benson shouted after the two, "Because if you guys get arrested, I'm not bailing you out again!"

But secretly, Benson did hope the two did get into a little bit of trouble. Because if they did, there was a chance they would miss their plane, and then have to drive to New York, which was perfectly fine with Benson.

"Oh, I can't wait to ride the big metal bird all the way to the Giant Apple!" Pops said with glee. The last time he had been on a plane was when he moved from Lolliland to the states, and it would be exciting to be on one again.

"You know who else can't wait to ride the big metal bird all the way to the Giant Apple?" Muscleman asked.

Benson rolled his eyes. 'As if we didn't already know.'

"MY MOM!" High Five Ghost gave his green friend a high five and Pops giggled, while Benson and Skips just rolled their eyes.

With that, Muscleman and HFG ran over to the food court to stuff their faces along with Mordecai and Rigby. Skips had walked over to one of the stiff airport chairs (Not that he really minded with all his soft fur) and began reading a newspaper, leaving just Benson and Pops.

'I just need to relax,' the gumball machine thought to himself. He looked over at Pops, who was looking at a stand that was selling balloons and magazines. "Pops?"

"Yes my good man?" Pops asked.

"You wanna go over to the souvenir store and see what they have?"

"Oh yes! Yes! I'm always up for a little shopping."

The two friends then walked over to the souvenir store. Benson picked out a magazine and bought a coffee for himself, while Pops bought a small toy plane for himself and a snowglobe with a plane in it for his father.

After forty five minutes of trying to kill time, the plane to New York was still right on schedule, and Mordecai and Rigby had ended up watching a mini tv and not causing any trouble at all. 'Great,' Benson thought, 'when I actually need them to cause trouble for me, they're saints.'

Once all seven friends were together again, they took their place at the back of the line for the plane. While everyone was calm, Benson was shaking.

'Stop being stupid,' he told himself, 'You've been through worse than this, it's no big deal!'

"Whoa, Benson!" Rigby said in awe, "I didn't know your gumballs could turn green!"

"Crap," Benson muttered. Everyone in the line turned to look at Benson. "They're not green, they're just...pale. I've been sitting inside all day, so what!"

"No dude, they're totally green!" Mordecai said.

"Shut it, both of you," Benson snapped.

"Yeah, they're definitely green," Rigby said, taking a closer look at Benson's glass head, "Like you're gonna puke or something..."

"Rigby! Say one more word, and you're fired!" Benson shouted. The raccoon backed up a little bit.

"Okay okay, gheesh, yell at a guy for noticing a color," said Rigby, crossing his arms.

Benson then felt two hands grab his metal arm. "Benson, please calm down. Boys will be boys, right?"

The gumball machine turned and saw Pops concerned eyes. He instantly calmed down, his gumballs a little more pink now. "Right, sorry," he muttered. The lolliman smiled, and then noticed the people in front of them start to move forward.

"Oh look, the line's moving!" Everyone stepped forward, and Benson's gumballs turned a pale green again. Everyone handed the official their tickets and stepped through the metal detector without any trouble at all, and with that, they were ready to board the plane.

Benson and Pops had gotten first class seats, Skips had a 2nd class seat, and the rest of the group had coach seats (You could imagine how happy Mordecai and Rigby were at that). As more and more people began to board the plane, Pops got more and more excited.

"Isn't this exciting, Benson?" Pops asked.

"Yeah, exciting, sure," Benson mumbled. It was then when Pops got a good look at his friend. He had sweat rolling down his glass face, and his gumballs were indeed green like Rigby had said. In his hands, the magazine he had bought was now twisted and crumpled.

"My good man, are you alright?" Pops asked.

"Y-yeah Pops, I'll be fine," Benson replied, not looking Pops in the eye.

Truth be told, he wasn't fine. He was scared stiff. Being a gumball machine with a head that could easily break and weak plastic and metal parts that could easily break, the poor guy was terrified of heights.

He didn't mind small falls like one or two feet. You couldn't stop those, and besides his head was at least strong enough to survive that without even getting a crack. But try eight feet, or twelve feet, or twenty, or fifty thousand. That's when things got scary.

Not only that, but Benson had no desire to be on a plane. He was surrounded by people (Maybe he was also claustrophobic, he wasn't sure), and there was no exit (or at least a safe one in his opinion) that he could use if something went wrong (which it usually did).

'Stop it! If you can survive a trip to the moon, killer hotdogs, a giant business woman and a whole bunch of other crap, you can survive a two hour plane ride.' But Benson still had trouble convincing himself, especially with those gray clouds outside the window...

()()()()()()()

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Benson was feeling a little more relaxed. He had survived the take off, and over half the flight time. He could do this.

"Oh, what a exciting moving picture show!" commented Pops, as he watched an animated movie that the plane was showing in first class.

Benson smiled at his friend. Everything seemed like smooth sailing for now.

Suddenly, the tv screens went black, and Benson's heart dropped.

"Sorry about that folks," the pilot's voice announced over the loudspeaker, "I'm afraid we've entered a small storm. We'll try to find a place to safely land, and in the meantime just relax."

"Easy for you to say," Benson muttered.

"Oh my, I do hope we're not too late to get to the Giant Apple," Pops said. Benson didn't care if they were a whole week late, he just wanted to get there safely.

'It's just a small storm, relax you idiot,' Benson thought, scolding himself once more for acting childish. But then, everyone in the plane felt a small bump.

"Oh, did we hit a cloud?" Pops asked innocently. Benson didn't answer, he was still trying (and unfortunately, not succeeding) to calm himself down. He took a couple deep breaths, but he still felt as if he was running out of oxygen.

In a flash, the lights went off. Everyone in the cabin let out a gasp, and began talking, making it seem more crowded than ever. As stroak of lighting flashed out the window, and everyone felt another bump, but this time it was a big one.

Pops looked over at his friend, and saw him hunched over. Screw trying to stay calm, he was just trying to keep himself from having a heart attack.

"Oh god oh god oh god," he said to himself, in a quiet but panicking tone, "I'm going to die in a plane crash, I'm going to die in a freaking plane crash. Oh god, is the plane tilting, oh my god we're nosediving right into the ground! Oh god oh god oh god..." He could already see his dead body on the ground, broken glass, metal and gumballs everywhere. Hot tears began to sting his eyes.

Pops looked sympathetically at his friend, who was now rocking back in forth. Of course Pops was frightened too, but Benson was practically scared to death. He would have to be brave for his friend.

The gumball machine heard a crash of thunder, and could only imagine the crash of the plane against the cold, wet ground. But then, he felt a warm arm wrap around his cold body, and pulled him towards a source of warmth. Like a security blanket, Benson stayed close to the warmth, and held onto it.

"There there," a soft British voice said, "We'll be fine. You don't need to be afraid."

Benson was calmed by Pops voice and touch, and while he was still afraid, he felt safe with his friend's arm around him. After a couple minutes, light filled the cabin once more.

"Okay," said the pilot's voice once again, "Looks like the storm has passed right through us, and we'll be in NYC in about half an hour. Thanks again for choosing our airlines for your travel, the safest against thunderstorms."

It took a moment for Benson to realize that he was still holding on to Pops. Embarrassed, he moved away from Pops, and tried to wipe the dried tears off his face as nonchalantly as possible.

"Here," said Pops. Benson looked and saw the lolliman holding out a yellow lollipop to him. "You can eat it, butterscotch ripple is sure to settle your stomach, and don't worry about paying me back. I still have plenty to buy sovie-nees at the Giant Apple with."

Slowly, Benson reached out, took the lollipop, and took a couple licks of it. "Thanks Pops," the gumball machine said with a small smile. The lolliman just simply smiled at his friend.

()()()()()()()()()

The trip to New York was great. It was fun, there were plenty of great sights, they had managed to see two of the most popular musical in New York, and the group almost got killed only twice (In the span of fourteen days, only two brushes with Death was pretty good for them).

"So, when do we have to leave for the airport?" Mordecai asked Pops as they were eating their complementary hotel breakfast.

"Oh, we're not flying back home," said Pops. Everyone was surprised.

"Aww, why not?" complained Rigby, who was not looking forward to being in a car for several hours next to Muscleman's pits.

"Because, I ordered my car to be taken here so we can drive home," Pops explained, "after all, a lovely drive home is a wonderful way to end our holiday. Wouldn't you agree, Benson?"

It was then that Benson realized Pops had made it so they wouldnt' have to ride the plane, just for him. He couldn't help but smile at his friend. "Yeah, a drive home would be nice."

"Yeah, easy for you to say," said Mordecai, "You don't have to sit next to this guy (gestures to Muscleman) for hours."

"You know who else has to sit by this guy for hours," said Muscleman, smiling.

"STOP TALKING!" Rigby shouted.

Despite Mordecai and Rigby's complaining, and Muscleman's stench and 'My Mom' jokes, Benson still kept himself in a good mood during the drive home, just for Pops' sake.

'Thanks Pops,' he thought with a smile, 'I owe you one.'

**IMO, this chapter was better than the last. But if Benson seemed a little OOC, I'm sorry. It's just that I can totally see Benson being afraid of heights (wouldn't you be afraid too if you had a glass head?), and I just had to write it. Hope you liked this, and don't forget to review :)**


	6. Expectations and Pride

**This is another Pops centered one. Enjoy!**

No matter what task he was in the middle of doing, and no matter thoughts were swirling around in his lollipop sized head, Pops always seemed to forget about all of that whenever he saw a butterfly.

They always looked so friendly and beautiful and free-spirited, Pops couldn't help but become intranced by them, and today was no different. Wanting to help out, Pops was sweeping the walkway by the fountain when he saw a bright yellow and green butterfly.

"Oh, hello there," he said, smiling at the winged insect. Unfortunately, it didn't stay long, because a golf cart was heading right towards it and Pops.

"Farewell!" Pops waved, not noticing the cart.

"Pops?" The lolliman turned, and smiled once again. "Papa!"

"Hello Pops," said Mr. Maellard, "get in the cart, we need to talk about tonight."

"Oh yes yes, of course," said Pops, getting into the cart without any procrastination. As soon as his son was inside the cart, the elder lolliman did a 360 turn and drove away.

"I just wanted to remind you of tonight," said Mr. Maellard, "You do remember what tonight is, don't you Pops."

"Oh yes," answered Pops, "tonight is the anniversary of when you purchased this park. We're going to celebrate with food and dancing and all your friends will be there!"

"Exactly," said Maellard, pulling up to the house, "and I don't need to remind you how important and sophisticated my friends are. I've already got Bean-teen and that yeti fellow taking care of the arrangements, now I just need to make sure you know your part."

Pops looked over at his father, who was looking very serious. "I understand you like having... fun," Maellard said the word as if it were a disease, "But tonight, you are to be on your best behavior. You are to behave like an adult, understand."

The younger lolliman looked down at his feet. "Yes Father," he said, "I understand." He now knew tonight wouldn't be the enjoyable merry making celebration he had predicted, but the same type of get together his father would have back in Lolliland, where he had to stand there and be polite and quiet. No giggling, no skiping, no acting childish. Just quiet, stiff and adult-like.

Pops never enjoyed these types of parties, but he would rather sit through those than know his father was dissapointed in him. No child ever wanted a parent's dissappointment, and Pops was no different.

"Mr. Maellard?" Pops looked up, and smiled a little when he saw the familiar gumball machine standing on the porch. He had his clipboard in his hand, and a little bit of sweat on his face, but his eyes were a little softer than they usually were when he was in the middle of a project, almost sympathetic.

"Oh what now, Bean-teen?" Maellard asked, glaring at Benson.

"The caterer will be here in twenty minutes, and all the tables and chairs have been set up, Sir," Benson reported, eyes down on his clipboard.

"Well, for once Bean-teen, you have everything taken care of," Maellard said, his voice nowhere near proud or impressed, but then again, Benson would've probably had a heart attack if it was. The old man motioned for Pops to get out of the car.

"I'll be back at 6:50, make sure everything is ready by then," Maellard ordered Benson, who responded with a nod and an 'Of course, Sir'. He then looked over at his son. "Remember what we talked about."

"Yes Father." And with that, Maellard drove off, leaving Benson and Pops behind. The lolliman let out a silent sigh.

"Pops?" Pops looked up at Benson with a smile.

"Oh, yes Benson, my good man? Do you need my assistance with anything?"

"No," replied Benson, "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh yes! I'm as jolly as a Richard."

"I think you mean Jolly as a Roger, Pops."

Pops looked around. "Who?" he asked innocently.

"Nevermind."

()()()()()()()

Pops glanced in the reflection of the vase one more time. Was his tie on straight? Did he remember his hat? He looked down at what he was wearing. A black jacket, black bowtie, a white dress shirt, and grey dress pants. His shoes were tied and polished, and his hat was straight and cleaned. The lolliman managed to double check everything he needed to worry about outfit-wise just before his father entered the foyer of the house.

"Pops," Maellard said, not looking at Pops.

"Hello Father," said Pops with a small smile. His father just simply gestured for Pops to follow. They walked outside, and entered the tent where all the guests were. About fifty of Maellard's closest and most valuable friends were there. Skips was at the door making sure there were no party crashers (though he was sure no one would want to crash this party), and Benson was making sure Rigby and Mordecai didn't screw anything up.

Almost immediately, Pops was introduced to a couple, the owner of a very successful store chain and his wife.

Smiling, Pops almost blirted out a happy and loud 'Hello!', but stopped himself just in time. He calmed himself down, and stuck out his hand.

"Pops Maellard," he said in a quiet voice as he shook the man's hand, "pleasure to meet you."

"Indeed," said the man smiling. Pops glanced down at his father, who was also smiling. So far, so good.

The rest of the night was pretty much the same. Pops wasn't allowed to ask for any of his favorite foods or talk with any of his friends. He had to wait until everyone else had already ate, and the only people he was allowed to talk to was the people his father had introduced to him, and even then he was only allowed to give a friendly hello and then stay silent while his father did most of the talking. Just like the parties back at Lolliland...

About an hour and a half later, Pops excused himself, and went outside to stand on the porch. As soon as the cool September wind tickled his face, Pops smiled the first real smile he had all night. He giggled, it was nice to giggle again.

But his giggling stopped when he heard the door open. Was it one of his father's friends, or Maellard himself? "Pops?" Pops smiled again.

"Hello Benson," said Pops, "What brings you out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," replied Benson, "I saw you leave the party."

"Oh, I just needed some fresh air," said Pops.

"A little too stiff in there, isn't it?" Benson said.

Pops thought for a minute, and then nodded. "Well, don't worry, I'm sure sometime tonight Mordecai and Rigby will do something that will most likely end in an almost-disaster."

Pops chuckled. Those two always did have a way with making things around the park exciting. That what Pops liked about them. "Perhaps," he replied.

"You seem a lot happier now," Benson commented, "you seem a lot more like yourself."

"I do?" Pops asked.

"Yeah," said Benson, "You're not trying to act like someone your not." He then looked over at him. "You know, you don't have to act different just to make your father happy."

Pops frowned and looked down. 'If only that were true', he thought. "But, if I'm not on my best behavior, I'll embarrass Father, and then he'll be ashamed of me." If he behaved, he got love. That's the way it always had been.

"Pops, even if he gets mad at you, he'll forget about it," said Benson, "he'll always be proud of you, and so will we."

The lolliman looked at Benson with big eyes. "Really, you're proud of me Benson?"

The gumball machine smiled. "Sure Pops." Pops smiled back, and wrapped his arms around his friend.

"Thank you Benson."

"No problem Pops."

After Pops let go of his friend, he noticed a familiar sight above Benson's head. "Oh! Hello again!" Benson raised an eyebrow, confused. He was about to ask, when he saw a bright yellow and green butterfly land on his nose.

"I think she likes you, Benson!" Pops said with a smiling.

"That's a surprise," muttered Benson.

"Not really," Pops replied. Benson smiled at him. Just then, the butterfly flapped it's wings and flew up into the starry sky. Standing together on the porch, Benson and Pops watched fly away. Even when it was out of sight, the two friends still stayed on the porch, deciding they would take a lesson from the butterfly, and let themselves relax and enjoy themselves.

**I feel like that was a really sucky way to end it, and I'm sorry if it was, I couldn't think of anything else. Oh well :P I'll see you in the next chapter. **


	7. Sunday Spills

**This one's a bit shorter than the others, but I had to write it. Enjoy! :)**

For the first time in who knows how long, Benson had a Sunday off. Leaving Skips in charge, Benson went for a walk around the park. One would think that after spending so much time at the infamous park, he wouldn't want to be anywhere near it. But since he had no plans and nothing was going on anywhere else, so he decided a walk would be the best way to relax after a long week.

After about a half an hour of walking, Benson spotted a shady tree, and decided to take a lesson from Mordecai and Rigby and take a break. He was sound asleep in less than five minutes.

He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but by the time he had woken up, the sun was high in the sky. 'Must be sometime around noon,' Benson thought to himself. As he stretched, he heard a familiar sound. The sound of the park owner himself giggling.

At the bottom of the grassy hill, Benson spotted Pops crouching down and watching a brown, fluffy rabbit. It looked like he was trying to offer it a carrot stick. Benson smiled a little, the lolliman was always fascinated by nature, whether it be the animals of the park or the clear water in the fountain.

Looking at the rest of the open field, Benson saw Muscle man and High Five Ghost driving a cart around, probably off to do some random chore. He didn't see Skips anymore, but he did see Mordecai and Rigby, who were once again slacking off.

The bluejay and raccoon were over by a tall tree that desperately needed it's branches trimmed. But the shears were disguarded on the ground, and the two slackers were swordfighting with two clipped branches.

Benson rolled his eyes. "Idiots," he mumbled. Even though it was his day off, Benson still decided it would be best to help Skips out and get the two employees back to work.

"Hey!" he shouted. Mordecai and Rigby froze, but continued after a few seconds. They must've thought that if they ignored Benson, he would ignore them. 'That or they have a death wish,' Benson thought. He yelled a couple more times, but to no avail.

Red faced and fists ready, Benson began to ran towards the two slackers. But he was so focused on them, that he didn't notice the rock on the ground.

It was like one of those home movies people send in to get money. Almost in a cartwheel fashion, Benson tripped over the rock, and rolled down the hill. When he was almost to the bottom, he felt something hit his skull and cause him to fly up in the air and land flat on his back.

"Oww..." the gumball machine said before he blacked out.

()()()()()()()

When the gumball machine started to come to, he felt two things, no, two hands. One felt rough and aged, and it was pressed against his forehead. The other, was holding his own metal hand. It was warm and... wet?

"Benson? Benson, can ya hear me?"

He recognized the voice as Skips. Benson slowly opened his eyes, and groaned, the bright sun practically blinding him. "W-what happened?" he asked.

"Well, you were running towards us, looking super pissed," Mordecai started to say.

"By the way, we totally didn't hear you," Rigby added, "Otherwise we totally would've stopped swordfighting- Ow!" Mordecai hit the small mammel on the shoulder before continuing.

"Anyway, you tripped over a rock and rolled down the hill," said Mordecai. Benson heard Rigby start to giggle a little, but was silenced with one death glare from Benson. "You must've hit a rock or something, because you kinda flew up in the air and landed on your back. Me, Rigby and Pops ran over here to make sure you weren't, you know, dead, and Muscleman went to go get Skips."

Pops. Benson looked beside him, and sure enough Pops was there. He was holding his hand, and smiling at his candy friend. "I'm glad you're alright," Pops said.

"How long was I out?" Benson asked as he pressed his other hand against his forehead.

"'Bout ten minutes," said Skips, "and I already checked you out. You have a couple small cracks, but they aren't too deep. They won't kill ya, but you'll have one hellova headache for a while."

"I'll survive," said Benson. He had gotten small cracks in his head before, but it was no big deal. Just a little glue and he was good as new.

Knowing their boss was going to live, the others had stood up and started heading back towards their previous activities. The only one who hadn't left, was Pops. It was then that Benson noticed that Pops was still holding Benson's hand, and was looking down at the grass, almost hiding his face.

"Pops?" Benson said, hoping he would get the lolliman's attention, "Pops, you heard what Skips said. I'll be okay."

"I know," Pops said, "It's just that...that..." Not being able to take it anymore, Pops flung himself forward and wrapped his arms tightly around his friend. Hearing small sobs start coming from the lolliman, Benson didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around him like an older brother would do to his younger sibling.

"Please don't scare me like that again," said Pops through his small sobs, "I don't want you to... to go."

"I'm not goin' anywhere, Pops," said Benson, "I'll be fine."

After a few more moments, Pops' sobs seemed to stop, so Benson let go and Pops shortly followed. As they sat there, Benson heard the familiar jingle of the ice cream truck.

"Say Pops, wanna go get some ice cream?" Benson asked. Pops' face instantly brightened.

"Oh yes, I would love a frozen milk treat!" Pops said gleefully.

"Same here," said Benson. The two began to stand up. As Benson got to his feet, he instantly felt light headed, and nearly fell over again, but was caught.

"Careful now," said Pops. He linked his arm with his friend's, and helped Benson regain his balanced.

"Thanks Pops," said Benson. Pops just simply gave him a smile, letting him know that he didn't mind at all.

Just another Sunday at the park.

**I feel like again that this wasn't my best work. Could you guys please leave comments telling whether these are good or not, I would really appreciate it. Thank you :)**


	8. Somewhere Only We Know

**First songfic in this collection. I just had to do this, it really does relate to Pops and Benson, and other fans on deviantart have kinda made this one of the songs for Benson and Pops. Enjoy!**

Today was the day of the yearly park talent show. It was always a big money maker and a lot of fun, but it was also a hassle for Benson. Nevertheless, he still made sure everything was set up and on schedule. The audio was working fine, and the stage was clean. The chairs were set up and filled, and the acts were all here. There were several singers, dancers, instrument players, magicians, comedians and many other acts. Even Mordecai and Rigby were doing something in the show.

Benson did wish a little that he could be in the show as well, but the thought quickly left his mind and was replaced with harsh memories of his old band. He still enjoyed playing his old drums, he just wasn't a performer anymore.

"Oh, there you are my good man!" Benson turned around and saw Pops walking through the doorway of his office.

"Hey Pops, aren't you going to watch the show?" Benson asked. It was all the lolliman could talk about for days.

"Oh yes, of course!" Pops answered, "I was just here to ask you a question."

"What is it?"

"Would you consider performing a duet with me in the tournament of talents today?" Benson blinked. It was if Pops had known what he was thinking.

"A duet?" he repeated, "Pops, I would but, I can't."

"Whatever do you mean?" Pops asked, confused.

"I haven't performed in front of a crowd in years," Benson explained. Truth be told, he actually had a little stage fright. The only way he had gotten through performances before was because he had gotten a couple drinks with his band a couple hours before. Not enough to get drunk, but enough to give him stronger nerves. "Besides, I don't even know what song we're singing."

"Oh, but assure you, the music is quite easy for a professional like yourself," said Pops, trying to coax his friend into performing.

'Professional?' Benson thought. It was flattering, but nowhere near the truth, at least in Benson's opinion. "Sorry Pops," said Benson, declining.

"Oh," Pops said, slouching a little in disappointment. He had so wanted his friend to perform with him in the show, but Pops wasn't going to force him. "Alright then," said Pops as he slowly began to leave the room.

The guilt began to set in, and Benson sighed. 'Maybe, it won't be so bad going up on stage one more time,' the gumball machine thought to himself.

"Pops?" Pops looked up. "What song did you have in mind?" Pops smiled brightly, and cheered silently.

"Follow me!" Pops said happily. Benson followed the lolliman to his room, where Pops gave him his sheet music, and then Benson drove home to get his drumset. Almost an hour later, Benson was backstage, drumsticks in hand, waiting to perform.

"This is so exciting!" Pops exclaimed gleefully, "Right Benson?"

"Sure Pops," said Benson, trying to sound like he was excited too.

The crowd cheered, and the current act (a guitar playing llama) left the stage. Now it was their turn. Pops giggled and ran on stage, waving at the audience as he headed towards the white piano on the stage. Benson just simply walked over to his red drumset and got out his sheet music. They both played at the beginning. Once the audience was quiet, Benson clicked his drumsticks and began a slow, steady beat.

_1...2...3...4..._

Benson played three beats and repeated them while Pops began playing the piano. For the first time playing the song together, they sounded pretty good. As Benson's nerves calmed, he began to get into the song, just as it was time for Pops to play a piano solo. As Pops played, he began to sing.

_I walked across an empty land_  
><em>I knew the pathway like the back of my hand<em>  
><em>I felt the earth beneath my feet<em>  
><em>Sat by the river and it made me complete<em>

Benson noticed that while Pops was singing this, he was looking over the park. Was he refering to the park? He must be, after all he had been here the longest.

_Oh simple thing, where have you gone?_  
><em>I'm getting old and I need something to rely on<em>

Before singing the next verse, Pops glanced over at Benson, and smiled.

_So tell me when you're gonna let me in_  
><em>I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin<em>

'Maybe he's not talking just about the park,' Benson thought as he began playing again, while Pops continued to sing and play the piano. He kept looking over at Benson and smiling at him, as if he was singing to him only.

_I came across a fallen tree_  
><em>I felt the branches of it looking at me<em>  
><em>Is this the place we used to love?<em>  
><em>Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?<em>

_Oh simple thing, where have you gone?_  
><em>I'm getting old and I need something to rely on<em>  
><em>So tell me when you're gonna let me in<em>  
><em>I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin<em>

As Benson continued playing, he remembered the next few lines, and couldn't help but sing along with Pops.

_And if you have a minute, why don't we go_  
><em>Talk about it somewhere only we know?<em>  
><em>This could be the end of everything<em>  
><em>So why don't we go somewhere only we know?<em>  
><em>Somewhere only we know<em>

Pops still played the piano, but he decided to let Benson have the next part. He looked like he was enjoying himself, and Pops wanted to share some of the spotlight with him.

_Oh simple thing, where have you gone?_  
><em>I'm getting old and I need something to rely on<em>

Pops began to sing along with Benson, and they finished off the song together.

_So tell me when you're gonna let me in_  
><em>I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin<em>

_And if you have a minute, why don't we go_  
><em>Talk about it somewhere only we know?<em>  
><em>This could be the end of everything<em>  
><em>So why don't we go? So why don't we go?<em>

_Oh, this could be the end of everything_  
><em>So why don't we go somewhere only we know?<em>  
><em>Somewhere only we know<em>  
><em>Somewhere only we know<em>

As Pops played the last few notes of the song, and the two friends sung the final verse, the audience began to clap.

'Now I know why you chose this song, Pops,' Benson thought with a small smile, 'And why you wanted us to play it together'. The song did kind of relate to the two of them. Two friends, one loud and expressive, the other a little more private, sometimes too much so. But together, they shared a connection and made each other happy. Their friendship really was somewhere only they knew.

The lolliman stood up, and gestured for the gumball machine to join him at the head of the stage. When they were both standing together, Pops took Benson's hand, and bowed. Benson quickly did the same. As the audience continued cheering, Pops looked over at his candy friend.

"So my good man," Pops said with a smile, "Did you enjoy yourself?"

Benson thought for a moment. "Let's just say, 'Good Show'," he said with a smile.

Pops smiled even bigger, and squeezed his friend's hand. Together, they took one more bow.

_Somewhere only we know_

**Sorry if that was a little cheesy, I don't write many songfics, but again, I really wanted to write this one. Hope you enjoyed it, and btw: The song is "Somewhere Only We Know" by Keane. Definitely check it out if you haven't already. See you all in the next chapter. **


	9. Strawberries

*Beep! Beep! Beep!*

Picking his metal hand off the floor, Benson hit the snooze button. Miss. He tried again. Miss. Miss. Miss. Finally he just gave up and threw the alarm clock at the wall. Another regular morning.

Putting his small feet on the warm carpet, Benson got up and walked towards the restroom. As he walked, he glanced at the calender. September 30th. "Huh, look at that," Benson said, before he continued walking to his bathroom.

What was so notable about this day? It was the day of the park manager's very own birthday. He was thirty one years old, only eight years older than Mordecai and Rigby.

But Benson wasn't planning any parties, celebrations, or even just simply getting himself a cake. He didn't expect cards, presents, cash, balloons or anything like that. It was just another day in the week.

Even as a kid, Benson didn't care for celebrating his birthday. Parties usually ended up being a headache with all the noise and the awkward questions like 'How can gumball machines even have birthdays?' (luckily, his mother was always there to scold the children about asking things like that).

When he got older, he simply didn't care about his birthday anymore. Once he turned fifteen, he stopped growing and stayed at the height of four foot nine. He didn't age, except for the obvious bags under his eyes (but those were usually caused by stress from two certain employees).

A couple times, back when he hung out with the friends who eventually became his bandmates, they would take Benson out for drinks to celebrate his birthday. And while Benson did enjoy the drinking nights a little, he hardly considered them a birthday thing, they could go get hammered any night, not just on his birthday. Besides, he could barely remember those nights anyway.

So, he stopped noticing his birthday all together. It was just another regular day in the week.

The gumball machine looked at himself in the mirror. No new cracks, maybe one or two new bags under his eyes (thanks Mordecai and Rigby). Other than that, Benson didn't look any older. He knew that after twenty more years or so, he would probably age a little more. But as long as his insides didn't rust or his head wasn't cracked open, he could live for decades, maybe even centuries. But Benson didn't want that, he wasn't going to outlive all his employees and friends. So he took care of himself just enough so he could live up to his eighties.

After washing his face and brushing his teeth, Benson left the restroom and headed towards the kitchen for breakfast. But again, he was stopped by something before he made it.

Sitting on his windowsill, was a cupcake with a bright, pink balloon attached to it. "How did that get here?" Benson asked himself. He then noticed that he had left his window open the night before. 'Nice job, Genius', Benson silently scolded himself as he walked over to the pink pastry.

It was probably the best looking cupcake he had ever seen. It was a white and strawberry cupcake, with whipped light pink frosting on top. The frosting looked so light, it almost looked like cotton candy. On top of the frosting, was white sprinkles that were carefully placed. Finally, to top it all off, was a fresh strawberry. Benson wasn't sure if he was just seeing thing because he was still tired, or what, but the strawberry almost looked like a heart.

Next to the cupcake and the balloon, was a light yellow envelope with the word 'Benson' printed on it. Benson opened the envelope, took out the card inside it, and read it:

Benson,

Happy Birthday, my good man! I wish you the best, and I do hope you like your gifts (I know strawberry is your favorite!) Enjoy!

Love Pops.

Benson couldn't help but smile at the gesture. The lolliman must've driven his flying car to Benson's apartment and snuck the presents through the window. It had been so long since he had recieved a birthday gift, he didn't really know what to say.

"Only you, Pops," Benson said, before taking the plate and heading towards the kitchen.

An hour later, after Benson had eaten the cupcake (which was freaking delicious) and gotten himself ready for the day, he headed towards the house for another day of work.

He entered the house, and quickly found his clipboard. But no sooner had he found it, Benson felt two arms grab him and pull him into a bearhug.

"Happy birthday Benson!" Pops said brightly.

"Thanks...Pops," Benson said with a forced smile, trying to breathe. After a few moments, Pops let Benson go.

"Did you enjoy your gifts?" Pops asked eagerly.

"Yeah, I did," Benson said, once he regain his breath, "But you really didn't have to. I don't really celebrate my birthday."

Pops frowned. "But it's a day worth celebrating," said the naive lolliman, before smiling again. "After all, what would I do without my park manager?"

Benson smiled. "Thanks Pops," he said, "Why don't you go gather the others and we'll start our morning meeting."

"Right-o!" And with that, Pops quickly ran off to find his fellow employees. Even with Pops gone, Benson still continued smiling.

Even if he didn't care about his birthday, it was nice to know someone did.


	10. Twenty Questions

As Pops sat there at the kitchen table, he realized something.

He knew everyone at the park. He knew Mordecai and Rigby's favorite video games and television shows. He knew what bands and food Muscleman and High Five Ghost liked. He even knew a little about Skips' likes and dislikes, and he was the quietest of the bunch. Since Pops considered all his employees his extended family, he wanted to get to know them. And he did. But there was one person he still only knew a little about, and he was sitting right across from Pops, sipping his morning coffee.

Even though Benson and Pops were close friends, the extent of Pops' knowledge was still limited to Benson's employee record. What were the gumball machines' likes? Dislikes? Hobbies? His past? Did he have other friends? Perhaps siblings? Like a child who didn't know a secret everyone else knew, Pops just had to know more about the infamous gumball machine.

"Benson?" Benson glanced up from his coffee cup. "I was wondering, could we perhaps play a game together?"

"A game?" Benson repeated, a little confused, "Um, what game?"

"I was thinking we could play Twenty Questions and Answers," said Pops, "It could be jolly fun, and it would help us get to know each other a little more."

Benson sat down his cup. He never liked answering a bunch of questions, especially when he didn't know what the questions would be about. It could get very uncomfortable, _very _fast. "Pops, we have work to do," Benson stated.

"But it's only Ten o'Two," Pops said, looking at the clock, "Please Benson? If you want to, I can swear an oath of secrecy. Please?" The lolliland pleaded with the gumball machine with his eyes. Benson sighed.

"Fine," he said, "But only one game, okay? And instead of twenty, how about just fifteen?"

Pops smiled brightly. "Good show! Oh, may I start asking my fifteen questions?"

"Sure," said Benson as he picked up his mug and began to drink again. As Pops began to think, Benson felt kinda silly for the way he acted before. He shouldn't be nervous, this was Pops! The questions shouldn't be too bad...

"What flavor are your gumballs?" Benson nearly choked on his coffee.

"W-What?" Benson sputtered out.

"I'm only asking because I'm just curious," Pops said innocently, "Do they even have a flavor?" To Pops, it was just a simple question, but to Benson, it was the most awkward thing that could be asked.

"Uh, w-well," Benson started to say, his face red with embarrasment instead of anger for once, "I'm n-not really sure myself. Since they're pink, I assume it's strawberry or cherry."

"Oh," said Pops. He then smiled. "Well look at that, we're getting to know each other already." Benson gave a weak smile, and prayed that the next question wouldn't be so awkward.

"When did you start playing the drums?" Benson let out the breath he was holding, and he felt his face start to cool down. "Well, I started when I was about eight. My mom bought me a drumset from a pawn store. I was terrible at it." Benson laughed at the memory. "But she made me practice everyday, and after two weeks, she didn't even have to tell me to practice anymore. It was too much fun, I couldn't last a day without playing."

Pops noticed the smile on Benson's face. 'Perhaps I should ask him to play his drums more often,' Pops thought to himself, 'He looks so happy when he talks about them.'

"Do you have a favorite group of musicians?"

"I guess they're all pretty good," Benson stated, "But I guess Bon Jovi and Journey would be my favorite bands."

"What about the suited men in the yellow submarine?" Pops asked.

"The Beatles? Yeah they're pretty good too, I think I actually have one of their albums," said Benson. He was pretty sure he still had that box of records in his apartment.

"Perhaps we can listen to them..." Was Pops giving up the game? "...As soon as we finish our questions and answers." Damn.

"Okay," said Benson, "Next question?"

"Hmm," Pops said as he thought, "Do you have a favorite Talkie?" Benson gave him a confused look. "The moving picture shows?"

"Oh, movies," said Benson, "I don't really have a favorite movie. As long as it isn't some stupid teen movie or anything like that, any movies good for me."

"Are you a fan of Zombie Talkies?" Pops asked, "I recall you enjoying yourself at the Scary Movie Night last month."

Benson smiled at the memory. He still couldn't believe how lifelike those zombies were. "Yeah, I guess they can be pretty fun."

"Do you have any lady friends?"

"You mean, a girlfriend?" Pops nodded. Benson looked down at the floor. "Do I get one free question, you know, a question I don't have to answer?"

"If that's what makes you the most comfortable," said Pops. Benson gave him a 'thank you' nod. The question itself wasn't too hard to answer, but Benson was just worried that if he did answer it, the answer would lead to other tough questions.

"What about siblings?" Pops asked.

"Nope, I'm an only child," said Benson, "Do you have any siblings, Pops."

"Pardon me, but I think it's still my turn."

"Right, sorry," said Benson.

"It's quite alright," said Pops with a smile, "you can ask again when it's your turn. Alright, let's see... favorite color?

"Red."

"Favorite food?"

"I guess Chinese, that's always pretty good."

"Favorite animal?"

"Cat."

That certainly was an interesting answer. "Why?" Pops asked. Benson shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess just because they're soft, and as long as you feed them and all that other stuff, they'll stay with you. That, and they can keep you warm on a cold night."

"Have you ever had a pet cat, Benson?"

Benson thought back to another memory. "Well, when I was eleven, my mom brought home two siamese kittens. They were cute, but they were always getting into trouble."

Pops giggled. "They remind me of another pair."

"I have a feeling we're thinking of the same pair," Benson stated, "Anyway, not only did they get into trouble, but they had claws. _Sharp _claws. We wouldn't get them declawed because my mom always said it was only natural for cats to have claws. In the seven years I lived at home with them, I had to get two dozen new blankets. On the bright side, Mom always had plenty of material to practice sewing on."

Pops smiled at the gumball machine. This was great, he was learning so much. Quickly, he counted all the question he had asked in the past five minutes. "Oh my, it seems that I'm at my final question."

"Well, ask away," said Benson, before getting another drink.

Pops thought, and thought, and thought. Finally, he had his question. He looked at Benson, his face serious, a rare case for the naive lolliman. "Benson, why do you always put up walls around you?"

Benson blinked. He stayed silent, and just stared into the remaining brown liquid in his cup. Now he wished he hadn't used his freebie question. "I don't know what you're talking about, Pops."

"You don't share much about yourself," said Pops, "and if it wasn't for this game of ours, I wouldn't know about your favorite color, or your love of Zombie movies, your drums or your cats. Why don't you ever share anything with me, with the rest of us?"

"That was an extra question," Benson stated.

"Then ignore that question and answer my last one." Benson looked up at his elder. His face was stern, wanting Benson to answer the question, but at the same time, it was comforting and caring.

Benson sighed. "I guess it's because, because I don't want to get hurt."

Pops looked at his park manager. If he had another question, Pops would've asked what he meant by that. But it would've been a wasted question, because Benson had continued talking.

"A few times, a bunch of times actually," Benson continued, looking at the floor, "I've opened myself up to people, I've trusted them... but they've always just thrown that back at my face." His so called 'friends', his ex girlfriend, they all made Benson open up to them thinking it was safe, but it wasn't. It was one of the reasons why he was almost always alone. "Sometimes it's better to put walls up."

"Not always." Pops lifted Benson's chin up and looked him. He gave the gumball machine a caring smile, and hugged him. Despite being a little surprised, Benson hugged back.

"Benson, my good man," Pops said in a caring tone, "You can trust me to keep any secrets, and to not pass judgement on you. All I want, is for you to take down your walls, it'll make your world, and mine, a lot bigger."

Benson was surprised by Pops' words. He had never heard him speak this way, but at the same time, it was comforting. And he knew he could trust the lolliman.

"Thanks Pops," said Benson, smiling.

"No problem at all," replied Pops, "Now, I do believe you have fifteen questions to ask me."

Knowing Pops wouldn't let him leave until the game was over, Benson began thinking of some questions.

"Okay, well, what's your favorite flavor of lollipop?"

"Well, that question's a bit personal isn't it?" Benson shrunk a little. He was about to appologize when Pops started giggling. "I knew this little game of ours would get you to open up."

Benson smiled, sat back, and listened to Pops'. Now it was his turn to learn a little more about the naive man from Lolliland, and honestly, he didn't mind at all.


	11. Shadow

Ever since his first day working at the park, Pops had always been close by Benson.

He remembered on his first day, how Pops insisted on 'escorting' Benson all around the park while the gumball machine did his new job. As they walked around, Pops would ask Benson dozen of questions, to which Benson would usually reply with a Yes, No or I dont know. He didn't really mind the lolliman, but Benson would've rather worked in silence.

As the days went on, Benson quickly got himself in a routine. Check the mail, assign chores, drive around the park, eat lunch, do some more chores and then go home. But with almost everything he did, everywhere he went, Pops was nearby.

Like a little sibling, Pops followed Benson. If the gumball machine was outside doing yard work, Pops would watch from behind a tree. If Benson was doing the dishes, Pops would be sitting at the kitchen table, humming to himself and watching, occasionally giving a word of praise or just a random comment.

There were sometimes if Benson was writing on his clipboard, Pops would come up from behind him and read over the gumball machine's shoulder.

Finally, after a month of this, Benson couldn't take it anymore, knowing he was being watched almost every moment of the day.

"Pops," he said, while he was outside taking out the trash, "Pops I know you're here, come on out."

After a few moments, Pops stepped out from behind the house and walked over to Benson. "Yes, what do you need my good man?" Pops asked.

"Why do you keep following me?" Benson asked, "Is it because you don't think I'll do a good job?"

"No," answered Pops, "I think you're doing a fantastic job here."

"Well then, is it because I'm a living gumball machine?" Benson was used to people staring at him because he was a walking, talking gumball machine.

"No," said Pops.

"Well then, what is it? What's so special about me that you want to follow me?" Benson asked.

"Well, I guess because I thought you could use some company," said Pops, "A friend to be with you throughout the day. And besides, I like being with you Benson."

"Why?" Benson asked.

"I'm not quite sure really," said Pops, before smiling at Benson, "I guess it's just because you're a likable person. I like you, Benson."

'Me? Likable?' thought Benson. He didn't really think so. He knew of his bad temper and strict nature, so why would a man with a personality the complete opposite of him like him? It didn't make any sense, but then again, Pops wasn't really known for making a lot of sense.

Benson then noticed that Pops was looking at him, almost as if expecting him to say something.

"Oh, I like you too Pops," replied Benson. Pops' smile got bigger. "But, do you think you can give me just a little more personal space."

"Oh yes yes, of course, I understand," said Pops, "everyone needs their personal space. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable, Benson."

"It's fine Pops," Benson assured him, making the lolliman smile again. And with that, Pops said goodbye to Benson and went inside the house.

But while Pops did keep his promise and did give Benson a little more space, the lolliman was still always with or nearby Benson. He would still follow Benson if he had nothing else to do, and when Pops wasn't around Benson, he would still call Benson on the walkie talkie, either to report something or just to say hi.

Whenever Benson was in a bad mood or was yelling, Pops would back off a little but he would never run away. He would be there to help Benson cool off and usually did help him.

The years went on, and Pops still would follow Benson throughout the day. One would think this would get annoying, and at first it was a little annoying. But after awhile, it just felt normal to Benson. It was like Pops was a natural shadow to Benson, he would always know Pops was around somewhere, but it didn't bother him.

'Maybe that's why I feel so alone now,' Benson thought to himself. Two days ago, Pops and his father had left the park for a small business trip to Lolliland.

It was so strange to Benson, knowing that Pops wouldn't walk up to him at any moment, or was close by, or was going to call him using the walkie talkie. It made Benson feel like, like something was missing...

"Lolliland Inn, How may I help you?"

"Um, Hi. Could you please connect me to Pops Maellard's room?"

"One moment please." Benson twisted the cord around his metal finger and released it when a familiar voice spoke into the phone.

"Hello?"

"Pops?"

"Benson! Hello! How are you?"

Benson smiled. "I'm fine Pops, what about you? How are things back home?"

"Wonderful. It's so nice to see Mother and my cousins again. We were just getting ready to go out to dinner."

Benson stopped smiling. "Well, I'm not going to keep you then."

"Wait Benson!" Benson froze. "You called for a reason. I'm allowed to be a little late for dinner since Mama isn't as strict as Papa. Perhaps we can talk a little, after all, I've missed you Benson."

Benson couldn't help but smile a little. He had missed Pops too, but not anymore. Now, it felt as if the lolliman was sitting right next to him in his apartment. No longer feeling alone, Benson continued to talk to his friend, his best friend, on the phone.

**Again, I don't feel like this was very good, but I wanted to write it since it seemed like such a cute idea in my head. Please review, and suggest ideas if you have any. See you in the next chapter**


	12. Hats

**I know my last chapter wasn't very good, but hopefully this one's better. Enjoy! **

His father was bald. His grandfather had been bald. Even when looking back at his great great great grandfather, the first leader of Lolliland, he was also bald. So naturally, Pops was bald too. Even when he was a child.

His mother had offered to buy him a hairpiece, but they were all either too small or extremely itchy. But one day, in a small shop window, Pops saw it. A black top hat with a violet ribbon tied around it. It was perfect.

Pops had paid for it with his own money. It nearly cost a whole butterscotch ripple, but it was worth every cent. Ever since then, Pops had loved his top hat. He loved how soft it was, and how it made him look sophisticated, but he still looked like himself, unlike when he wore those scratchy suits to one of his father's meetings. As Pops got older, he continued wearing the old top hat, making sure to always take good care of it. He only took the hat off when he had to wear something else on his head, like when he was wrestling.

Throughout all his schooling days, moving to America, and eventually taking partial ownership of his father's park, Pops still wore his hat.

So you could imagine how upset he was when it had gone missing.

At first, it wasn't noticed. Pops came down to breakfast, not saying a word and not wearing his hat. By the time someone noticed and decided to say something, Pops had already finished eating and went back upstairs.

He stayed upstairs the rest of the morning, and was still up there when lunchtime rolled around. By 1:45, Benson decided that it was about time to check on his lolli friend.

"Pops?" Benson asked, opening the door. Pops wasn't in his room, but his bathroom door was open. Benson couldn't hear any water running, nor could he see any steam, but he still wasn't taking any chances. "Pops?" he called again.

"Benson?" Pops replied.

"Pops, is everything okay? Can I come in?" Benson asked. There was a moment of silence.

"If you'd like," Pops finally replied. Benson stepped inside the cream colored room, and walked towards the bathroom. Pops was standing in front of the mirror, frowning at his reflection. He turned to Benson.

"Oh Benson, my good man," said Pops, "I'm afraid I'm just not myself without my hat. Oh, I knew I should've bought a spare. Is the store still open? Oh, but how will I get there..."

"Pops, Pops," said Benson, putting a gentle hand on the lolliman's shoulder, "It's okay. Look, I promise we'll find your hat, just relax. I'll help you look for it." Pops gave Benson a small smile. "But for now, how about we go downstairs and get some lunch."

Well, Pops did feel hungry, but he also felt nervous. He hadn't gone out in front of people without wearing his hat (at least on purpose, he couldn't help the time his hat got audited) in years, decades even. What would their reaction be?

"Benson, I'm not so sure..."

Benson looked down on the floor, as if thinking about something. He then looked back up at the lolliman. "Well, um, if you need a hat, I have one you can borrow."

Benson then reached up to the red platform with the small metal ball on a stick, sitting on top of his head, and lifted it off his head. Pops was a little surprised. "I didn't know that was a hat."

"Yeah, no one knows," said Benson, blushing a little. He wanted it to be that way, to look like it was part of his head. He didn't want to suffer the embarrassment of people knowing he had lost all his hair (yes, even gumball machines had hair) and was 100 percent bald. Benson didn't like the idea of going without his hat, but he also didn't like the idea of Pops hiding in his bathroom, upset. After all the things Pops had done for him, Benson had to help him.

"You can borrow it, if you want," said Benson.

Pops looked at the hat, then at Benson. Then, he gave the gumball machine a big smile, and within seconds, Pops had his arms wrapped around him in a giant bear hug.

"Oh Benson, thank you! You're such a good friend! Good show! Jolly good show!" Pops said happily, hugging Benson.

"No- Problem- Pops!" Benson said, trying to catch a breath. After Pops let him go, he placed the red hat on top of his lollipop sized head.

"Well Benson, how does it look?" Pops asked.

To be honest, it didn't look good at all. The red totally didn't match with Pops' black and gray clothes at all. But that didn't really mattered. All that really mattered was that Pops felt like himself again.

"You look great, Pops," Benson said with a smile. Thanking him one more time, Pops gleefully ran downstairs with Benson following.

Later that day, the old top hat had been found. It had nearly been thrown away by Rigby and Mordecai when they had been assigned to clean the 2nd floor rooms. Luckily the hat was seen before the trash had been picked up, otherwise the two employees would've recieved way more than their usual verbal bashing from Benson.

"Hey Pops!" Benson had said, walking into the kitchen with the black top hat (cleaned) in his hands. Pops looked up, and his face instantly brightened.

"My hat!" he said happily, "Oh thank you Benson!" But Pops didn't take the hat right away. "Hmm," he said, looking at his hat and then at Benson. He picked up the hat, and placed it on Benson's head, which just like Pops' head, didn't look complete without a hat. "Just as I thought, perfect fit!"

The hat may've been a little much for the gumball machine, but it didn't look garish. In fact, some might say he actually looked cute wearing the top hat.

"I must say, Benson, you look quite distinguished in that hat," Pops said, giving him a smile, "Maybe we should which hats more often."

Benson blushed a little. The two then switched hats, both happy to have their own back.

"Benson, my good man, I can't thank you enough," said Pops, getting ready to give the gumball machine another hug.

Benson simply smiled and replied with "Like I said, no problem Pops. I mean, what are friends for?"

Pops didn't let go of Benson for almost five minutes.

**HUGS! ^-^ As you can tell, I enjoy hugs between these two, it's just so cute (at least it is in my head). Please review, and remember, requests are open!**


	13. Coffee and Tea

Another morning, another cup of coffee. And boy did Benson feel like he needed it today. It was Monday, the beginning to another long week.

Letting himself inside the old teal house, Benson turned on the coffee maker, and grabbed the newspaper. It was a little after 7:30, which meant Pops would be up soon. Mordecai and Rigby were supposed to wake up at 8 (most likely he would have to drag their lazy butts out of bed, again). Skips was probably already up, and was just relaxing in his own house before coming into work.

The familiar grindings of the coffee machine echoed through the kitchen, and the caffenated drink's scent began to travel through the house.

Just as Benson was pouring the coffee into a mug, he heard soft footsteps come down the stairs. "Good morning, my good man!" Pops said with a smile. Everything from his shined shoes to his spotless top hat made the lolliman look like he was ready for the day.

"Morning Pops," Benson said, giving him a small smile before turning back to his coffee.

"I'm glad you accepted my invitation for an early morning meeting," Pops said as he walked over to the kitchen counter. His opened the cabinet and got out the tea kettle.

"Yeah," said Benson, "No problem." While it was nice to spend the mornings at his apartment by himself (probably the only peace and quiet he would get all day), whenever Pops offered to spend the morning with him, Benson always accepted the offer. He couldn't explain why he always said yes. Maybe it was because he just wanted someone to talk to while he drank his coffee, or maybe it was because he couldn't say no to those big, happy blue eyes.

Either way, Benson was here, so he was going to enjoy it. As the tea boiled, Benson and Pops made small talk. Talking about the local news, laughing at the comics section (though mostly Pops did that), and discussing what had to be done that day.

After a few minutes, the high pitch scream of the kettle was heard, and Pops happily excused himself from the table, and turned off the stove. With careful precision, he picked out a shiny, baby blue tea cup, and poured the light brown liquid into the cup.

But before he drank it, he reached into his vest pocket, and pulled out a butterscotch ripple lollipop. He then began to stir the drink with the lollipop. "It's my secret ingredient," Pops said to Benson.

"I know Pops, you've already told me," said Benson, "three times."

"Oh, right. Sorry." After a few more moments of st iring, Pops threw away the now mostly melted lolli, and sat back down at the table. He took a sip, and smiled even wider.  
>"Would you like a cup, my good man?" Pops asked, a glint of hopefulness in his eyes.<p>

"Maybe some other time," said Benson. He had already drank coffee, so drinking tea would just cancel out the caffeine he desperately needed.

"Oh, alright then!" Pops said, disappointed but still had a friendly smile on his face. As he took another sip, Pops looked at the mug of black coffee. It never smelled as good as coffee, so Pops had never tried it before. But he was curious about it, since Benson drank it everyday, sometimes twice a day.

"Benson, may I please have a sip of that?" Pops asked, pointing at the mug, "If that's okay."

"Huh?" Benson said, "Oh, sure Pops. But, be careful." He was sure the coffee was about room temperature by now, but he still wanted to make sure the lolliman didn't accidentally burn himself from drinking too much too fast.

"No need to worry!" Pops said, confidently. He picked up the mug, looked at the drink one more time, and then took a sip.

As soon as the liquid touched his tongue, Pops wanted to spit it out. It tasted so bitter, not an ounce of sweetness. It was hot like tea, but unlike tea, this drink almost burned. He wanted to spit it back out, but Pops always thought about his manners first. So, reluctantly, he swallowed the repulsive drink.

He gave Benson an uneasy smile. "Very, um, interesting."

Benson couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Yeah, I guess I should've warned you I don't put sugar in my coffee, so it probably tasted really bitter to you. Sorry."

"Oh, it's alright, my good man," said Pops, who was feeling much better after he took a couple sips of his tea, "After all, nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"Right." The two went back to their drinks. But this time, Benson kept glancing over at the lolliman, and then at the tea kettle.

'I didn't know curiousity was contagious,' Benson thought jokingly. But truth be told, he was a little curious. And Pops did look like he wanted Benson to try the tea, like a proud chef-in-training wanting to show his teacher his creation. 'Oh what the heck.'

"Pops?"

"Hm?"

"Maybe I will try some of that tea." Pops blinked, and then smiled.

"Oh, good show!" He practically jumped out of his chair, pushed in his chair, and ran to the stove. "One minute please!" Benson chuckled, and watched the lolliman prepare another cup of tea.

After a few minutes, Pops presented a cup of warm tea to the gumball machine. Thanking him, Benson took the cup, and took a sip. To say he was plesantly surprised would be an understatement. The tea instantly made his entire body warm and his heart flutter. He felt his nerves go numb for a split second, and a smile creep its way on his face.

"So, do you like it?" Pops asked, snapping Benson out of his daze.

"Well, let's just say I wish I would've tried your tea sooner, Pops," replied Benson, "this tastes amazing."

Pops laughed cheerfully. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, my good man."

Sitting down by his friend, the two polished off their tea, and simply enjoyed each others company. "Thanks for the tea, Pops," said Benson, "Maybe I should start putting butterscotch ripple in my coffee," he joked.

"Perhaps sugar would be better," said Pops, "Ooh, and whipped cream and chocolate, like at those fancy coffee cafe's with the mermaid! Good show."

Benson just shook his head, but he still smiled. "Let's just stick with the sugar."

"Alright!"

Just then, the two heard yelling from upstairs. "Dude, you didn't have to throw it at me!" "Well, you wouldn't wake up, and you were snoring like a train!" "Shut up, I was not!" "You shut up!"

Benson sighed. "Sounds like Mordecai and Rigby are awake," commented Pops.

"Oh joy," Benson said sarcastically.

"Don't worry Benson, my good man," said Pops, with a smile, "We can have tea later. But it was really nice spending the morning with you, I couldn't think of a better way to start the day."

Benson blinked, but then smiled. "Thanks Pops," he replied. An idea then hit him. "Say Pops, maybe next week, if you wanted to, you could come over to my apartment for the morning instead of me coming over here." If Pops was over at his house, they wouldn't be interrupted by certain employees. That, and his third floor apartment had a great view of the sunrise that Benson knew the lolliman would enjoy.

Pops' face brightened. "I would love to!" he said ecstatically, "Oh! And I can get us a box of frosted pastry wheels."

"I think you mean donuts, Pops."

"Oh my, what an interesting name," said Pops, but he simply giggled and shrugged it off.

Benson excused himself from the table, and got his clipboard from his office. He could still hear the two friends yelling and arguing upstairs, and he had a long list of things to do. But surprisingly, he didn't feel that bitter about it, as if his mood couldn't (or wouldn't) be changed.

Yep, just another morning, but maybe, just a little more pleasant than usual.


	14. The Ex

**For those of you who don't know, the character mentioned in this chapter is from a deleted scene from 'Mordecai and the Rigbys'. But she has quickly become a fandon character, and this idea just hit me. Enjoy!**

It was a lovely day for swinging, one of Pops favorite things to do. He giggled as the wind blew past his face as he swung back and forth, tickling his moustache. Yes, definitely a lovely day for swinging.

But just then, the lolliman saw a bus pull up by the west park entrance. It opened it's doors, and a woman walked out. But not just any woman, she was a gumball machine, just like Benson. She had long blonde hair, and was wearing a purple shirt with a pink and purple plaid skirt. Her gumballs were violet. She looked about the same age as Benson, and she looked like a girl who partied a lot, but could be serious and threatening when she needed to be.

As soon as her sharp, high heal hit the sidewalk, Pops was over by her with a welcoming smile. "Hello Madam!" he said happily, "My name is Pops! May I ask what your name is?"

"Veronica," she said, with a smile that would make an actress proud, "Nice to meet you. I was wondering if you know anyone by the name of, Benson Marin?"

"Oh, are you two friends?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," said Veronica, this time with a sly smile, "Do you know where he is?"

"I believe he's running the snack shack today," answered Pops, "I can take you to him!" Veronica accepted the offer, and got into Pops' golf cart. Once he drove over to the snack bar, Pops called for the gumball machine.

"Benson, my good man!" Pops said cheerfully, "You have a visitor!"

"Who is...?" Benson started to ask, but saw who it was for himself when Veronica stepped out of the cart. "V-Veronica?"

"Hello, Benny," replied Veronica, "Long time no see."

Pops took over the job of the snack bar, while Benson and Veronica sat down at a table and chatted. Since there weren't any customers, Pops couldn't help but listen to the two. But he immediantly felt guilty about it. Sure, they were just talking about small things like the weather, but Pops still felt guilty.

So, to try and busy himself, he walked over to the sink and began washing dishes. But, almost subconsiously, he scrubbed the dishes slowly, and kept one ear open towards the two gumball machines.

"So, why are you here?" Benson asked.

"What do you mean?" Veronica said, flashing a flirty smile, "I'm here to be with you, Benny!"

"Then why didn't you call, or write?"

"Oh what? Can't your girl surprise you?"

"Last time I checked, you weren't my girl."

The two were silent for a moment. Blinking her eyes, and turning away for a dramatic affect, Veronica sniffled and quietly began to speak. "I know it's hard for you to forgive me. It was hard to forgive myself too, but I did. And I think I have a way for you to forgive me, especially once you hear what I have to say."

Now both Pops and Benson were curious. "What is it?" Benson asked.

Veronica, forgetting her tears, smiled again. "I'm glad you asked. I've been searching online, and there's this band the next state over, looking for a drummer. And I emailed them and told them I had the best drummer in the region ready to go."

"Me?" Benson asked.

"Of course you," Veronica said, rolling her eyes, "Aren't you excited?"

Pops glanced at Benson. He didn't look to excited. "Thanks for the offer, but I don't really want that life anymore. I'll just stay here."

Veronica blinked. "You're kidding." Benson gave her a look. He wasn't kidding. "I thought this was your dream!"

"Maybe ten years ago," said Benson, "but after ten years of thinking about it, you don't want the same thing you wanted before."

"So, you'd rather stay here?" Veronica asked, "Here at some old park, with a bunch of people that'll be working here probably until they die? Do you really want that?"

Pops looked back at Benson. He was looking down at his hands, as if he was thinking about his answer. "Look, I know it doesn't sound like much, and somedays I do want to leave." Pops blinked a few times, a lump forming in his throat. "But I'd rather stay here than go after some old dream that I've already forgotten and that won't likely come true. Besides, it's not really the job I care about."

Pops smiled. He always thought of his employees as family, and now he knew he wasn't the only one. He went back to scrubbing, but continued listening.

"Oh come on, Benny!" Veronica said, trying to persuade the red gumball machine, "Don't you even want to try? You don't want me to have come all this way for nothing, do you?"

"Look, I'm sorry, I'll even pay for your trip back home, but I'm staying here."

Veronica huffed. She was starting to get angry. "I can't believe you. What happened to the guy who wanted to travel around in a band, become famous, party everyday, and..." She gave a suggestive smile, "Having fun at night."

Benson blushed, but shook it off. "Look, I don't know why you're pushing this so much. You're the one who said, and I quote: You'll never make any money with that music crap, Benny."

"Oh come on," said Veronica, moving closer to Benson, "That was ten years ago! I've changed hun, I miss your music, and the music we would make together. I missed you." She began to stroak his face.

Benson moved away. A thought hit him. "Hey, whatever happened to that business man?" Benson asked, "the one you left me for?"

Veronica froze, but smiled again. "Gone hun, he was nothing compared to you." But Benson saw her eyes, and could tell she was lying through her teeth.

"He's broke, isn't he?" Benson asked, glaring at his ex girlfriend, "He got laid off, or is broke, or broke up with you, and now you want to use me." Veronica looked at him, mouth agape. "That's it, isn't it." She didn't even have to answer, Benson could tell by looking into her eyes that he was right.

There were a few tense moments of silence, and then Veronica's gumballs turned deep purple, and she glared furiously at her ex.

"You, you... I offer you a free ticket out of this loser town, and you have the nerve to say that I'm using you! I don't need you! I never needed you! Why would I need a washed up, wannabee, old idiot loser like you?"

At that, Pops slammed the glass he was scrubbing (for the past five minutes) down in the sink, making both gumball machines jump. Silent, Pops left the sink, left the snack bar, and walked over to the table. He was calm, but just by looking at his face, Benson could tell the lolliman was not happy. As for Pops, while he knew the conversation was none of his business, when his friends were getting hurt, whether it be physically like at the wrestling tournament, or emotionally, he knew it now _was _his business.

"Excuse me, Miss Veronica," he said, giving her a small glare, "but I'm afraid you've been here quite enough."

Veronica was stunned. "Are you kicking me out? You can't kick me out! This is a public park! I can do whatever the hell I want!"

"Myself or one of my employees can escort you out or call you a taxi if you would like," said Pops, "but I'm afraid you are no longer welcome here. Not if you're going to treat my park manager like that."

Benson couldn't believe it. He had never seen Pops like this. What was more stunning, he had never had someone stand up for him, at least, not since he was a kid.

Veronica gave both of them an icy glare. "Like I would want to stay here." She looked at Benson. "Goodbye _Benny," _she said, saying his 'nickname' as if it were an insult. With that, she turned on her heal, and walked away.

Once she was out of sight, Pops looked back at his friend, his face now more soft and caring. "My good man, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'll live," replied Benson, looking away. He felt a soft hand on his arm, and sighed. "I don't know why I even cared about her. Maybe it was because she was the only gumball machine I knew, well, the only female one anyway. She was almost always like this, and when she wasn't, I thought she was finally changing. But she always went back to her own ways, and eventually, left me for good. It was for the better anyway."

"But, you're still hurting," said Pops, "She's still making you sad. I don't want you to be sad, Benson." He sounded so innocent, and yet, he was supportive like a father or an older brother.

"It's not that simple, Pops," said Benson. Veronica was the only girlfriend he ever had, all other relationships he tried to start ended in disaster. And even if Veronica was a total witch, she was still his first love. The bruise she left on his heart would never go away, no matter how hard he wished for it to leave.

Pops hated seeing his friend this way. So, he did the only thing he could do. He wrapped his arms around the gumball machine, and gave him a comforting hug. Benson melted in the lolliman's arms, and all his troubles were numbed. Even if he still felt a little depressed, knowing someone like Pops cared made it better.

After a few minutes, Benson's mood was getting better, so Pops ended the hug, but he still kept a hand on Benson's shoulder. "Thanks Pops," Benson said, giving him a small smile.

"Anytime, my good man," said Pops. He then moved a little closer to the gumball machine. "I'll always be here for you." Benson rested his head on Pops' shoulder, and sighed. Pops definitely knew how to cheer someone up (and the someone was usually Benson), but Benson still couldn't help but think of his ex's words.

As if Pops could read his mind, he spoke up. "Please don't think to much about what she said." He then frowned. "She wasn't very nice. And here I was thinking she was a friend. Well, she's no friend of mine, bad show." But then he turned back to Benson. "But don't fret. You're very nice, a great person, and a hard worker. You'll find that special someone, I know you will."

Benson smiled at him. A voice in the back of his head said that, maybe he already had.

"Thanks Pops," Benson said again. He lifted his head, and stood up, with Pops following him. Together, they walked back to the park house, with Pops babbling and giggling all the way.

It was true, there were days Benson wished he could leave the park and have a job with better pay or less stress. But whenever he felt that way, all he had to do was think of Pops, and Benson knew that he was where he should be, and with the person he should be with.

**Please review :)**


	15. Quiet

The old golf cart screeched to a hault. Benson had finally finished making his rounds. Everyone, well _almost _everyone was working (Mordecai and Rigby were nowhere to be found. Which explained his bad mood). All the people visiting the park were happy, and it was a nice autumn day. If not for the two slackers, Benson would probably be in a good mood.

With nothing else left to do, the gumball machine decided it was about time for a break. Looking over his shoulder, he was about to back up when he saw a familiar sight. Pops was sitting on the swingset, gently swinging back and forth. The lollilman looked up and, when he saw Benson, gave a bashful wave.

Wait. Bashful? Pops? The guy who acts like complete strangers are people he knew for years? Something was up. Putting the cart in 'park' and taking the keys out, Benson then got out and began walking towards Pops.

"Hey Pops," said Benson. Pops gave Benson a small smile, but didn't say anything. "Sooo, nice day, huh?"

"Mhm," said Pops, nodding a little. It was silent for the next few moments. Benson hated awkward silences. They were just so, well, awkward! He also hated being the one to start a conversation, since he could be so awkward sometimes.

"Uh, what's up?" Benson asked. Pops blinked at Benson, and then pointed up at the sky. "I mean, what's going on? It's everything okay." Pops simply shrugged his shoulders, and became very interested with the blades of grass underneith his feet.

Why isn't he talking, Benson thought, usually he would be talking my ears off by now. Something must be wrong.

"Pops, if something's wrong, you can tell me," said Benson. Then he remembered the reputation he had around the park. "I promise I won't get mad, okay?"

Just by looking at Pops' face, Benson could tell there was something he wanted to say, but wouldn't, or couldn't.

"Did Mordecai and Rigby ask you to keep a secret?" Last time that happened, Pops covered his mouth and wouldn't talk for two days (thank goodness Rigby accidentally spilled the beans). But Pops shook his head.

"Is something broken? Or did something happen?" Pops shook his head, but he acted as if Benson was close to solving the mystery. The gumball machine tried to read the lolliman's face, trying to find some sort of clue.

"Are you," Benson thought for a moment, "Embarrased about something?" Benson then noticed a slight blush in the man's cheeks, and he turned away and continued looking at the ground. "Pops?" He simply shrugged his shoulders.

Benson sighed. He wasn't good with things like this, trying to make people open up to him, especially when he didn't usually open up to anyone except for Pops or Skips. Questioning was getting him nowhere, and he was starting to get a little annoyed. But he wasn't going to yell at the lolliman. No, he couldn't do that. He would have to try being a little more sensitive. It wasn't exactly the first thing he wanted to do, but Pops was his friend, so he would do whatever it took.

"Look Pops," said Benson, "I don't know why you won't talk to me, or what's wrong, but I wish you would tell me. Look, I..." Pops looked up at Benson. "I care about you, okay. You're my friend, my good friend. I'm not sure what's wrong with you, but if you just tell me, I'll try to help." Benson looked up and smiled. "Okay?"

At that, nearly tearing up, Pops reached over and gave Benson a huge hug. "Uh, thanks Pops," said Benson, trying to breathe. Pops gave a happy giggle, only it was muffled because he didn't open his mouth. Now that he thought about it, Pops hadn't opened his mouth the entire time Benson tried to talk with him.

Benson tried to ask why he wasn't opening his mouth, when he was interrupted by the sound of two people running. It was Mordecai and Rigby, and said bluejay was carrying a bottle of water, most likely from the Snack bar.

"Yo, Pops!" said Mordecai, not noticing Benson at all, "Here's your water." Mordecai tossed the bottle at Pops, who caught it with no trouble at all. He made a noise that sounded a little like a 'Thank You', twisted off the cap, and chugged nearly the whole bottle in ten seconds flat.

"Thank you Mordecai and Rigby," said Pops with a grateful smile. The two just simply said "No problem" and, once they noticed Benson was there, ran towards the job they were supposed to be doing.

Pops then turned to the dumbstruck Benson. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you earlier, my good man, but I had found a bag of miniature peanut butter cups. They're so yummy, I guess I ate too many. They were so thick and peanut buttery and I couldn't talk, so Mordecai and Rigby volunteered to get me a bottle of water. I suppose it is a little embarrasing."

It was just too many peanut butter cups?

Benson blinked. But then he smiled. A soft sound came from his throat, almost sounding like laughter. It was laughter. He was chuckling, then it went to giggling, and then he was just simply laughing. He wasn't sure if it was just because of the pure ridiculousness of the situation, or just because he had gone too long without a break, but Benson was laughing.

And pretty soon, Pops started laughing as well. "I guess it is funny when you think about it. Ha ha ha!" After a couple minutes, their laughter died down a little, but Benson's pleasant mood stayed the same.

"Maybe next time you should eat only two or three at a time," said Benson.

"Oh yes, of course," said Pops with a smile, "Oh, and Benson. Thank you my good man, for being so considerate."

"No problem, Pops."

The two sat on the swings, rocking just a little. Pops then reached over, and picked up a bag. "Peanut butter cups?"

**Idk, this was pretty random, but cute nonetheless :) Please review.**


	16. Footloose

"Are we going to put on a few music discs and dance the night away?"

"No Pops, we're just cleaning out my collection," replied Benson as he opened another box. Since he used to be a part of a band, it was no surprise Benson had an extensive music collection. But since his apartment wasn't exactly the biggest, and there were only about a dozen records he still listened to, he decided to finally go through his collection. Any records or cds he didn't want would go to the local Salvation Army, and would hopefully be bought by someone who would appreciate them as much as Benson had.

Of course once Benson had announced this, Pops wanted to help (Mordecai and Rigby wanted to help to, but Benson, knowing it would most likely be a disaster, rejected the offer). So, here they were, in the living room of the old park house going through record after record.

"Oh my, such interesting art!" said Pops, gazing in awe at all the album covers. Some simple, and some outragous. Definitely the 80's. "Good show!"

"Yeah, they had some pretty good covers," said Benson as he flipped through the records. 'Keep, keep, sell, sell, sell, keep, sell, sell... I don't even remember this one. Sell, sell, se-'

"Ooh!" Benson heard Pops say, "I've always loved this song!" Letting out a joyful laugh, he quickly ran out of the living room and into the garage where the record player was at.

"Pops!" said Benson, standing up and walking after the lolliman. "Pops, we're not listening to anything, we're just sorting!"

As soon as he entered the garage, a familiar guitar rift echoed through the room. Even if he was a little annoyed, Benson couldn't help but smile a little. 'Of course he would pick this song.'

Pops was already dancing and laughing along with the music.

_'Been workin', so hard! I'm punchin' my card!'_

"Oh I just love this song!" said Pops, laughing happily.

"I know, you sang it at karaoke night." And he didn't let anyone stop him from singing (Benson never did find out what was on that tape). "Definitely a song to dance to," said Benson. He then felt Pops grab his hand.

_"So now I gotta cut loose, footloose! Kick off your sunday shoes!"_

"Wait Pops," said Benson, "I, I'm not going to dance. I don't dance, Pops."

Pops looked curiously at the gumball machine. "But surely you can dance."

"I can, I just don't."

"Well, if you can," said Pops, smiling, "then do what the song says!" He then began to sing along. "Lose, your noose. Benson, you should cut footloose!"

Benson sighed. He wasn't going to get out of this, was he? So, he started dancing a little to the music.

_'You're playin' so cool, obeying every rule! I dig way down in your heart, you're burnin, yurnin for a song...'_

As Benson got into the music, his moves got bigger and had a lot more energy. He jumped, spinned, leaped, danced, twirled, and quite frankly, brought new meaning to the term 'Cut Footloose'.

"Oh my," said Pops, watching in awe, "I've never seen someone dance like that! Jolly good show!" Nearly mimicking Benson, Pops danced right along side him. With both of them dancing now, they did a couple moves with each other that would make the 'Dancing with the Stars' contestants green with envy.

_'You can fly, if you'd only cut loose! Footloose! Kick off your sunday shoes!'_

Benson hadn't danced like this in years. Laughing and feeling more energenic than ever before, his moves got bigger and more elaborate. It was almost time for the big finale. But then...

"Holy. Crap."

"No freaking way. Benson?"

Benson turned and saw that Mordecai and Rigby were in the doorway, watching in disbelief. And that's when he tripped over his own feet and landed on the ground, hard. So hard that the needle jumped up and the music screeched to a hault.

He didn't even have to look up to know Mordecai and Rigby were laughing at him. "Oh my god, that was such a fail, dude!" Rigby shouted, laughing along with his bluejay friend.

'And this, is why I don't dance,' Benson thought bitterly. He got up, and gave the two employees his infamous death glare. That stopped their laughing (with the exception of a few more giggles from Rigby'.

"Get out of here and get back to work!" Benson shouted, his face bright red. Not willing to risk getting fired (or possibly losing one of their limbs), the two ran out, leaving Benson and Pops alone again.

"Benson, please don't be upset," said Pops, "boys will be boys."

"Let's just get back to work," Benson replied, his voice flat.

"Oh, alright then," said Pops. He walked towards the door while Benson got the record. "You know Benson, you're quite the dancer. A natural if I do say so myself. Another one of your many talents, my good man. But, please don't hide it. This is was so much fun, and I'd really like to dance with you again sometime."

Benson didn't say anything. But Pops was patient, and if he just let Benson cool down a little, he knew the gumball machine would dance another day. "I will meet you in the living room, my good man. Come in when you're ready."

"Mhm," said Benson. Pops walked out of the room. But as Benson picked up the record, he heard the faint sound of Pops singing.

"We lost, our blues. Benson and I'll cut footloose! Aha ha ha!"

A smile betrayed his mood and appeared on his face, despite the fact he was still pretty pissed at the two slackers. Putting the record back in the cover, he walked back into the living room.

Just before he went back to the box he was working on, Benson threw the record on top of a small pile, a pile Benson marked as 'Keep'.

**I saw Footloose with my mom yesterday (Loved it!) and I guess you could say it inspired me, lol. Hope you liked! Please review!**


	17. Love

The leaves were falling all over the park. There was a gentle wind, and the smells of fresh cooked turkeys and mashed potatoes could be smelt from miles away. It definitely felt like a perfect autumn day. It would've been the perfect day to light the old fireplace and curl up with a good book. Unfortunately, Benson couldn't do that.

For one thing, Benson's apartment didn't have a fireplace. 2nd, he had a lot of chores to do today. Breaking tradition, Mr. Maellard was coming over to the park instead of having Pops come to his manor. That meant Benson had to get the groceries for a big holiday feast. Considering the fact that it was less than week before Thanksgiving, he might as well may've been walking into a ring full of angry bulls. He also had to make sure the house was spotless, and make sure Mordecai and Rigby raked every single leaf on park property. If just one leaf was left out of a pile, Maellard would be nagging and insulting him about it for at least an hour.

Sighing, Benson went inside the house. He had to make the grocery list. He walked through the living room, and Pops, who was sitting on the couch reading a book with the tv on a yulelog channel, instantly brightened up.

"Hello my good man!"

"Hey Pops," said Benson, half-heartedly. Though in his mood could tell that Pops was a little more giddier than usual. A little suspicious, Benson walked into the kitchen, and he couldn't believe his eyes.

Sitting on the table was about a dozen grocery bags. Opening the fridge, he discovered it was stuffed with food, side dishes, veggies, and desserts. All the groceries he needed were right here in the house! But how...?

"Do you like your surprise?" Pops asked, a big smile on his face, "Skips helped me make the list, and Mordecai, Rigby and I went to the supermarket to get it all."

"Pops," said Benson, not really knowing what to say, "Thank you, but you didn't have to do all this for me."

"But Skips said you had quite a few chores to do today," Pops said, "I was just offering my assistance. Did you not like your surprise?"

"Nonono!" said Benson quickly, "No, I like the surprise, Pops. You don't know how much I appreciate this. Now I can actually relax for a few hours. Thanks Pops." Bensomn smiled at the lolliman, and Pops returned the smile.

"Oh!" said Pops, remembering something, "after we went to the supermarket, we went to the book depository! Would you like to read with me? The fire's quite cozy." Benson didn't have to tell him the fire wasn't real.

"Eh sure, why not?" replied Benson. Together, the two walked back into the living room and sat down on the couch. Pops went back to the book he was reading, while Benson began to look through the pile of the other books. There were a couple picture books, a few thick books, a few average looking books, some 'How to' guides, and even a dictionary.

He probably picked these books at random, Benson thought. He then looked at the cover of the book Pops was reading. 'A Fair Chance of Romance', was the title, and underneith it was a picture of a man and woman about to start making out with a sunset and a carnival in the background. It was one of those teen romance books, and by the looks of it, a really juicy one. He would have to slap Mordecai and Rigby for not paying closer attention to what books Pops picked out.

"Um, Pops," said Benson, making the lolliman look up, "You really shouldn't be reading that."

"Why not?" Pops asked, "It looked quite interesting from the cover. Just look at the happy couple!"

"Yes, I can see that, Pops."

"And it's a very good story. Miss Jennette and Henry are in love, but they think they are in love with other people. Oh, and they both met at a carnival! How quaint!"

It sounded innocent enough. And besides, Pops was an adult (technically), so if he wanted to read the book, Benson had no right to stop him. Picking out one of the average looking books, Benson began to read.

About fifteen minutes later, Pops spoke up again. "Oh my, how interesting."

"What happened, Pops?" Benson asked, looking up from his book (which was surprisingly good).

"Well, Jennette is angry with Stuart, and he asked why she's acting like this. She said that she was in love, and he asked her what she thought love was." He then turned to the gumball machine. "Benson, what is your definition of love."

Benson blinked a couple times. "Well, uh, there's a lot of different kinds of 'Love'. There's family love, like when you love a parent or a sibling."

"Of course," said Pops, "but what about the other type of love. The kind with the kissing. The love you always see in films."

Benson blushed. "Well, uh, I... *sigh*." Why did Pops have to ask these questions? And why was he always the one to answer them?

"Well, that's usually exagerated by Hollywood," Benson stated, "real love isn't quite that cliched. I guess love is like friendship, but a little more than just being friends. I guess, you feel like you really know the person. You care about them, you can talk to them about anything. It's like, without them, it feels like something's missing."

"I see," said Pops, like a student taking notes from a teacher. He then chuckled. "I see you think the same thing I do."

"Great minds think alike I guess," said Benson. He then turned back to his book.

"Love is splended, don't you think so, my good man?"

"Yeah, I guess so, Pops." He turned back to the paragraph he had been trying to read for the past five minutes. But then, Benson heard three little words that made time stand still.

"I love you."

What? Dumbstruck, Benson turned to Pops. The lolliman was simply smiling at him, as if he had been saying this to him for years. A timer from the kitchen went off. "Oh, Skips and I made pumpkin cupcakes! They must be done!"

Happily, Pops walked into the kitchen. Leaving Benson alone with his thoughts.

The words echoed through his head. _I Love you...I love you...I love you..._

"He means like a friend," said Benson, "Or like a family member. I mean, he can't mean..." But he sounded so confident about it, so sure.

_Love is splended, don't you think so, my good man?_

Could Pops really love him? The more Benson thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Pops always seemed to follow Benson, giving him a helping hand or pushing into doing something fun like dancing or playing some silly game. And he did always hug him, and call him his 'good man'.

But as Benson thought about it, the less weirded out by it he was. So what if Pops said he loved him, maybe that was okay. But one question remained.

Did Benson love him back?

Well, he definitely considered Pops a close friend. Other than Skips, Pops was the only one Benson could really talk to, and the closest friend he's had since Dave. He definitely cared about the lolliman. He was always protective of him, but of course he was the park owner's son, Benson had to make sure he didn't get hurt...but deep down he knew that if Pops and Mr. Maellard weren't related, he would still be a little protective over him.

He knew almost everything about Pops, and vice versa. The two could tell what the other was feeling just by looking at them. He remembered all the times they spent together, all the fun times, and all the confort they would give each other if the other one was upset.

Finally, after all that thinking and remembering, Benson came to one simple conclusion: Without Pops, his life just wouldn't be as fun. It wouldn't be complete.

But Benson still wasn't quite sure if this was 'Love'. God, that was such a big and defining word. No one outside his family had said it to him before, not even Veronica. It kinda scared Benson to hear it, but it made him feel something else. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Happy? Pleased? ...Maybe, hopeful?

"Benson?"

Jumping a little, Benson looked at the lolliman in the doorway. "The pumpkin cupcakes are cooling down, would you like one?" Pops asked. His face so innocent and caring and happy...

Benson gave a small smile. "Yeah, I'll have one. Thanks Pops."

"You're quite welcome, my good man," replied Pops, smiling back. As he retreated back to the kitchen, Benson stood up. Even if he wasn't one hundred percent sure that he 'loved' Pops, he did care about him. A lot. And for now, that was just fine.

Whether or not those feelings would ever grow, he would just have to wait and see.

**I'm planning on making another Benpops story that kinda continues this chapter. The plot will be about Benson and the gang spending Christmas at Mr. Maellard's house with Mr. Maellard and Pops. The two grow even more close, and Benson just might say those three magic words. :) FYI, yes this will be a romance story, don't like, don't read. **

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and favorited. Please review and have a nice day :)**


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